


Lonely, Grace or Not.

by MiraLadyofNerds



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bakery, Bonding, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Men of Letters, Post S8, Resurrection, Sabriel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-22 09:44:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 24,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraLadyofNerds/pseuds/MiraLadyofNerds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate continuation from end of season eight.<br/>Gabriel's back and both he and Cas are human. Sam and Dean finished Crowley's trial and both are changed because of it. Also Kevin finds out who his father is.<br/>Slow build to eventual Destiel and Sabriel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, first fic, ever, so please be nice. Constructive criticism would be appreciated, and just a heads up, I'm not totally sure where this is going. Thanks for giving it a go. Love to all, Mira.

_Then_

Gasping for air, Gabriel surfaced from his unconsciousness, his eyes snapping open in haste to see what had happened. His last memory was of tears, his and his brothers mingling on his face as they fell, he felt his grace dying and his wings giving their last few flaps, then nothing until now. Sitting up he looked sideways and saw them, spread out like a charcoal drawing across the floor of the ruined motel. In a panic he reached behind for his wings, they weren't there, not even the single pair that had been left after his escape from heaven. Swearing profusely in Enochian he sat up and looked at the devastation that had come from the slaughter of his pagan family. The people that had taken him in when he’d lost everything, and had given him a home and hope. As he reached to his grace to clean up the mess, and give those around him the suitable send-off he found something else, a small ball of light that he was all too familiar with, a human soul, but not the familiar pulsing celestial power that he had known. It was gone, and there was no getting it back. He was a useless human with a penchant for sweets, and nothing more. No more messenger of God, even though those days were long gone. No more trickster, no more Loki. Just a freaking useless human. Taking his frustration out on an upturned table he stubbed his toe. It was nothing compared to the pain of having his grace decimated, but it drove home the fact that the previously all-powerful archangel was nothing more than one of his human charges. Then the tears started, more than he’d had when he left heaven and more than he’d had when he saw his brother killing him. It took a lot to make angels cry, but not much for humans, and he’s as human as they come now. He collapsed to the floor he started sobbing, and soon couldn't stop. He stayed like that through the night, and as the sun rose and shone through the shattered windows onto the salt crusted skin, Gabriel decided that if he was human he would make the most of it. He was no longer a target, everyone who knew that he had still been alive thought he was dead now, or was dead themselves. He no longer had to run, to hide. Finally he could live a simple ‘apple pie life’ he thought the Winchesters called it, not that it had ever appealed to him, but he had very little left. If he could push through the loss maybe he could do this. He stood up and began to gather what little could be of use to him in the human world. Money from the till, clothes from the lost and found, and car keys from the pockets of his friends. Stealing from them felt wrong as he couldn't even give them a proper send off. Although… As he sprinkled the soil from the garden, and the water from the fountain outside over his friends, he said a last few words and walked away. Grabbing a lighter from behind the desk he lit the fire underneath the curtains, and hung around just long enough to make sure that the room caught before leaving. Climbing into the Ferrari California, all that was left of Kali, he sped off towards somewhere. He wasn't sure where, but as the smoke rose in his rear-view mirror, Gabriel decided that this part of his life was over, and he wasn’t going back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thanks to Redsparkletea for pointing out that I hadn't checked the multiple chapters box. Thanks to everyone who read the last chapter, and here goes the next. Love to you all, supernatural kisses all around, Mira xx

_Now_

  
“Sammy come on, you’re not dying on me now.” Dean grunted as he dragged his half-conscious brother into the backseat of his car. He had no idea where Cas was, and the hundreds upon hundreds of angels he could see falling from the sky had him mildly concerned about his wellbeing. No, that was bullshit. Seeing the heavens fall around him, quite literally, and having no frickin idea where his best friend was, was tearing what was left whole in him, apart.  
“Crowley, you’ve got to get him… harmless” came a quiet mumble from his brother, “please.”  
“Dammit Sammy, you’re barely alive, we’ve got to get you back to the bunker.”  
“Please Dean…”  
Slamming the door on his brother, much louder and firmer than was necessary, Dean marched in to get said former demon, he wasn’t the first one though. An unfamiliar brunette was crouching next to Crowley, with a knife quite firmly planted at his throat. Wearing what was left of a tattered white wedding dress she looked strangely appropriate in what was left of a tattered church.  
“Who the hell are you?! I’ve had just about enough of-“  
“Hello Dean, nice to see you again. Those green eyes really are brilliant. Sadly, I only got to see your baby brother earlier, and he really wasn’t up for much. I’d love to go a round, but you know, things to kill, people to torture. I’ve missed decades of that fun, we really must catch up later.”  
“Abaddon…”  
“Not as slow as you look,” taking the knife away from Crowley’s throat and shoving it in the ankle strap of her muddy heels, “after your brother torched my old meat suit I had to, commandeer another. You two have been pains in my side since I came hurtling out of that closet, and I really liked that t-shirt. Of course you did get rid of the only competition I had to rule hell, so I suppose we’ll call it even. Ciao.” Reaching to grab Crowley’s shoulder she got a well-aimed machete straight through the wrist.  
“Bastard.”  
“You disgusting bitch, I’ve just about had enough for tonight. As I speak my brother is dying in the back of my car, and my best friend is God knows where, not that He actually cares. In case you hadn’t noticed the entire angelic population of Heaven is falling from the sky. So I’m gonna say I’ve had more than my fair share, and I’m in a sharing, not so caring mood. So please, bite me.”  
Lunging for Abaddon with the demon knife Dean was a thing of beauty. His time in Purgatory may not have been pleasant, but it did wonders for his combat skills. He sliced up and down the sides of Abaddon’s new vessel before she even made a move. She cried out in pain and reached for her fallen hand. The demonic shriek was enough to make the newly human Crowley wince, and the crunch of reconnecting bone was disgusting. With a wave of her re-joined hand Dean was sent across the room, crashing into the already weak wall and slumping to the floor, a small piece of wood protruding from his chest.  
“Thank you so much for this Dean, I could’ve taken Crowley before, but this gives me a chance to truly terrify him. I’ll have him spilling his secrets in no time. You know, it takes a lot of knowledge to run hell, and connections. Hunters have managed to kill most of mine, so I suppose I’ll just have to make do with his.” Leaning down she yanked the wood out, “Lucky, any lower and there might have been serious damage, only got your shoulder. But it must hurt, let me see if I can do anything to, ah, alleviate the pain.” With a glint in her eyes and a smirk on her face she knelt down and pushed a finger into the wound, “Is that better?” adding a second finger and applying enough demon strength to crush bones, “How about this? What a strong maggot you are, not even a flinch,” she said with curiosity and disappointment painted on her features, “most humans would have passed out by now.”  
“You’re forgetting one thing bitch, most humans haven’t been to hell and back.” Using his left hand, Dean reached around her leg and drew the long, slender and deceivingly sharp knife from her shoe, and in one smooth movement raised it and detached her head. As her body slumped to the ground he rolled out from underneath, straight into the head. As it occurred to him, he grabbed it by the hair. He ran outside he and shot a Colt bullet straight into the middle of her forehead. Reaching for the holy oil and ensuring his lighter was on hand, he ran back into the church to the rest of her body. It had hauled itself to its precariously high heeled feet and was stumbling and feeling around the outside of the window.  
“Nuh uh bitch, you’re not going anywhere.” Drenching the head in oil and throwing it and the almost empty container to the body, Dean lit his lighter and soon there was a roaring flame setting both the body and head alight. The eyes snapped open and the mouth let out an unholy wail that shattered what glass was left in the church and made the flames jump higher.  
“Hey Squirrel, little help here?” Glancing over to Crowley he noticed that the fire was spreading, and so, swearing like a sailor he unlocked Crowley and the two of them got out of there.  
Remembering Sam in the back of his car, he shoved Crowley in shotgun and swang into the driver’s seat. “Sam, you still with me?” there was no answer and when he turned around, his eyes were shut and his breathing was shallow, “Don’t worry Sammy, it’s gonna be ok.” He said as he punched the gas.  
As they raced away, the bright light of the burning church was obscured by a cloud of demons. Dean hadn’t seen that many since, well, his time in hell.  
“Crap crap crap crap crap.”  
“Um, there’re-“ The beaten British man in his passenger seat decided to point out the obvious.  
“Shut up. I know.”  
“And you plan on what? Outdriving them?”  
“Well I don’t really see many other options, do you?”  
“You could always just force them to leave. Now, how would you do that? You could always, I don’t know, close the gates of hell?!”  
“Dammit! That will kill Sam, and you know it!”  
“Look at him Dean, he’s not exactly the finest picture of health. I’d be surprised if he lasts the night. Uncompleted trials aren’t exactly a walk in the park.”  
“NO! We’ll find another way. And since when are you so keen on closing the gates of hell? Last I remember, you were all for stopping us close the gates of hell.”  
“Well, probably since I got a ruddy TARGET ON MY HEAD THANKS TO MOOSE BACK THERE!”  
“Dean-“  
Dean and Crowley’s argument, while not actually coming to a solution had accomplished one thing, Sam was back in the world of the living.  
Clearing his throat, “Dean, Crowley’s right. Without a leader the demons will be unstoppable, they won’t be predictable, and you won’t be able to kill enough of them before they do significant damage. I’m going to die, let me die for something worthwhile.”  
“Dammit Sam! You’re not going to die, I won’t let you. And don’t give me that dying for something worthwhile crap. You’ve been there done that. Remember? Lucifer? No, we’ll fix you, we’ll find something.” Even Dean could hear the desperation in his voice, the hope for an ever elusive answer that maybe, just wasn’t there this time.  
“Like what? The angels are falling from the sky. All our friends are dead. Let me do this.”  
As an answer, Dean pulled the Impala over to the side of the road and lent around his seat. “Sammy-“  
“I know Dean, see you on the other side.”  
With his weak smile morphing into a determined mask, Sam put his bleeding hand on Crowley’s cheek, and watched the shiny white glow return to his arm. As he repeated the spell for the last time, the glow grew brighter for a moment, before dying. Suddenly Crowley was writhing in his seat before slumping into unconsciousness.  
Then the bright white light came back with a vengeance and filled the car. There was a sonic boom and the clouds of demons disappeared. And the two brothers, who had quite literally been to hell and back, were thrown from the car as the brilliant light caused it to explode.  
If there had been any passers-by, they may have noticed a shining light surrounding each brother, and a short suited man pulling himself from the wreckage before collapsing on the grass. But there weren’t, and so they lay there until they would be woken by the rising sun. As they slept, angels fell around them, and the ‘most unexpected and brilliant meteor shower’ as scientists would discuss tomorrow on news shows around the world, continued.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, thanks for being patient. Sorry but I've got some stuff going on at the moment, but I hope to be updating more soon. Thanks to everyone leaving kudos and those commenting, it means a lot.  
> Oh, and I forgot to say for the other chapters but I obviously (and probably fortunately) don't own Supernatural or any of the characters.   
> Love you all, Mira xx

As he looked out the window of the tiny apartment above the shop, the sight he saw made him sick. No, they hadn’t, but they had, he’d checked. When he’d seen the first few lights he’s thought it was a meteor shower and had grabbed the pair of binoculars in the cupboard. As he looked through the lenses he’d caught a glimpse of something he’d hoped never to see again, a pair of wings burning up as their grace was tainted and ripped out. Hoping he’d just imagined it he watched another one, and there they were again, bright burning feathers. He’d put down the binoculars and just watched, watched as hundreds of his brothers and sisters were cast down to the cage. Sitting on the armchair he just looked out the window and wept, wept for his siblings loss, and their betrayal. Only one thing could cast that many angels out of heaven at once, and he hadn’t spared it a thought since his father had told him about it in confidence before Metatron had written the tablets for him.  
As the tears rolled down his face, Gabriel thought for the first time that he was glad he was human not angelic, he still didn’t know why he wasn’t dead. But the cage was somewhere he didn’t wish to be. He mourned his family, but he had no wish to be at the mercy of a bored Luci, with near on no powers. He felt guilty, but he couldn’t deny it. Self-preservation was an ingrained part of his nature, and was how he survived. The one time he’d ignored it he got killed, so if that doesn’t prove a point, nothing would.


	4. Chapter 4

Standing on the hill, with the forest behind him looking out at the angels he’d cause to fall. If only he had stayed with Dean and Sam, if only he had listened to Naomi, if only he had not trusted Metatron, his brothers and sisters would still be in heaven. This was entirely his fault, and his newly given humanity was hardly a punishment. He should be in the cage with all his siblings that he’d caused to fall; even Purgatory would be more suitable. As the self-loathing, guilt and sorrow tore his new human soul apart, Castiel fell to the ground and wept, wept more than he had ever before. More than when he heard God did not want to be found. More than when he realised how many angels he had killed during his time as a false God. More than when he killed Balthazar. More than when he had betrayed the Winchester’s trust. He wept and became sure that he would cause the next great flood, for the Earth could only stand so many tears.   
He stayed there till morning, on his knees silently weeping for the siblings he had betrayed. As the sun rose so did he with a new determination to fix what he had broken. And so he moved through the forest towards the nearest town. He hitchhiked when he got to a road, and scared the truck driver as he sat silently in the passenger seat, contemplating his next move. How he could get his brothers and sisters out of the cage, and shove both himself and Metatron in where they belonged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self hating Cas, my poor baby. Why must the plot bunny do this to me? Why???!!!!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, all! Another chapter, yay! I'm enjoying writing this and I apologise for any typos, I'm certain there're some in there. Anyhoo, love to all, Mira xxx

It was fortunate for the boys that as the bunker lit up like it was the beginning of the apocalypse all over again, Kevin had decided, ‘screw this, I’m getting out while I can’. This very attitude led to him to be screeching along a road in the middle of the night in a stolen van, purposely not looking at the sky, and definitely not paying any attention to the angels falling as he sped through the countryside. He had tried to listen to the radio but all the hosts wanted to talk about was this unexpected and spectacular meteor shower. “You wouldn’t be so thrilled if you knew what it meant,” Kevin had muttered under his breath. Admittedly he didn’t know what it meant, but he knew it couldn’t be good. He’d stopped long enough to certify that there were, indeed, angels falling from the sky before hightailing it out of there. He didn’t know where he was going but there was something soothing about fleeing, it was better than trying to wait it out in a bunker that had wailing sirens he couldn’t turn off. So here he was, running like he had been for the last few years of his life, he never really stopped.

And that was how he found a man, kneeling in the middle of the road as the sun rose, next to what looked like the remnants of a car that had been under heavy fire from a few tanks. Thankfully instinct took over and his foot hit the break before he really registered what had happened. The van came to a squealing halt in front of a very bloody, beaten looking Crowley.

Now, Crowley was one of the last people Kevin wanted to see, but last he knew he was with the Winchesters, and if that was their car…

“Crowley?!” Kevin questioned as he climbed down from the van.

“Ah, Kevin, exactly who I wanted to see. Who else would I want to see as an injured human other than a prophet of the lord whose mother I had killed? Perfect. This just gets better and better.”

“Wait, human? So they did it? They closed the gates of hell, like forever? Sweet! Crap, where are they, why is their car-?”

“The boys aren’t exactly fighting fit. I did my best, but it’s not brilliant, and I’m not sure they’ll last much longer. The third trial should have killed Sam outright, or that was what Naomi told Dean, and I admit that’s what I had heard. Both boys had a kind of, power, around them. I think it’s what’s left over from the sorcery of the trials, everything comes at a cost. As for Dean, the explosion should have killed him, like it should have killed me. But it seems a bit of my power hung back just long enough to shield me.” Kevin helped Crowley to his feet as he talked, and the beaten human led him over to the forest, “I’ve done what I can with what I could find, even used some witchcraft, but their injuries were quite severe-“

Crowley was cut off with astonishment as the two of them moved into a small clearing just off the road, where he had previously left two battered and bruised Winchesters lying on the ground with rough poultices on their cuts, to find both brothers sitting up against a stump in the centre of the grass. Both without a scratch and looking perfectly healthy, if a bit tired. The medicine was cast aside in a heap of green goop on the grass. Dean had it all over his face and was trying to wipe it off with his sleeve.

“Dude! This stuff stinks, eurgh! What is it?”

“It was what was trying to heal you, but you seem to have done that yourself somehow?” Crowley peered closely at both boys.

“Wait, Crowley, are you human?” Sam asked, curious and hopeful. Of course if he was alive then Crowley was obviously still part demon, and Hell was still open for business. But then why weren’t they demon chow?

“Unfortunately yes, as human as they come.”

“So, does this mean that we did it? Did we close Hell.”

“Yes, yes you did. Hip hip hoorah, my joy is abounding. Now what I want to know is why are you still here?” He took out a cloth and what looked like the bones of a small child.

“Um Crowley,” Sam said hesitantly, “is that…”

“The bones of a newborn yes, far more powerful than those of a goat.”

“Crowley, seriously? Human equals no ‘bones of a newborn’.” Kevin stole them from his hands and started to help Sam get to a standing position. When he wrapped his arm around his back Sam winced. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, just a little, argh, tender, that’s all.”

“If you’re sure you’re ok.”

“Kevin, I should be dead and I’m not. I’m more than ok. I feel better than I have since before the trials, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, about that. Why aren’t you? Dead that is. I mean, I’m friggin thrilled, but Sammy, this is weird. Is it God again? I don’t see him giving much of a crap as he let his angels fall.” Dean grimaced as he stood up and leant against the stump.

“Well, if you get prophet boy over there to give me back my toolkit, I might be able to tell you.” Crowley snatched his cloth and bones back and stood over the table height stump. “I have a rather clever little spell that’s part demon magic-part witchcraft that I created myself. I’ll be able to let you know if he’s been present recently or is near. It was always useful in the old days, the last thing you wanted was Him bearing down of you full of wrath.”

“Will it work, I mean now that you’re human and Hell’s closed?”

“I don’t know moose, shall we find out?” The former King of Hell drew himself up to his full height, not that there was much of it, and began to chant in what sounded like Latin, but wasn’t quite. The bones and cloth did nothing other than shift slightly in the breeze. Crowley’s eyes rolled into his head momentarily before going back to normal.

“So, what’s the verdict? Any godly interference?”

“No, there’s nothing. Whatever saved you two wasn’t Him. There’s celestial power, but that’s just left over from the third trial.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not, Dean maybe we should-“ Sam turned to Dean only to find him running for the treeline.

An anguished wail came from the roadside, along with an impressive amount of swearing and angry yelling.

“Ah, yeah… He may have found what’s left of the car.”

“What? Kevin? What do you mean what’s left of the car?”

“BAAAAABBBBBYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SON OF A BITCH!” 

Kevin shifted uncomfortable and Sam remembered the explosion. “Oh.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I own nothing, sadly, but it's probably for the best.

Since Cas had left the forest, he’d been hitch-hiking across the country, looking for something, for anything. For just one of his siblings that hadn’t been cast into the cage because of his actions. Someone to help or someway to just do something. But he hadn’t found anything. And he deserved every piece of guilt and regret and sorrow that had taken place in his body. The only reason he hadn’t just given up was that he had no wish to meet Metatron again without anyway to fight back, and the burning desire to try and fix all of his mistakes. He needed to get his brothers and sisters out of the cage, he needed to have the punishment he deserved. And so he pushed on.

Cas had never been more thankful for his fallen days with the Winchesters. Dean had taught him so much about being human, and had given him what he called his ‘EHK- Emergency Human Kit’. He thought back to that discussion.

_“An ekk? Dean, what is an ekk? And why do I require one?”_

_“E H K, Emergency Human Kit, it’s just a bunch of stuff that will help you if you get separated from us. It’ll let you buy food and get back to us.”_

_“Dean, I have no desire to be separated from you. I have no requirement for an, EHK.”_

_“Cas, please, just take it.”_

_“But Dean, I have no wish to need it.”_

_“I know that,” Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, a sign Cas had learnt meant that his friend was frustrated, “just take it, in case we get separated, please.”_

The EHK included a credit card, fake ID and a card that had had Sam and Dean’s numbers on it. The numbers weren’t current, Cas had called both and reached a drycleaners and a small hire-a-clown business, which had ironically been Sam’s old number. He had kept it as a memento of his time as a human, and was so grateful that he had. Without it he wouldn’t have been able to buy food, clothes, transport or a place to sleep at night.

It had been two weeks since he left the clearing, and he was quite lost. He had just been going from bus to train to bus, just hoping against hope that he would find something. He wasn’t even sure what town he was in, and as he stumbled away from the bus station at 6 in the morning he smelt it. That mixture of baked goods and coffee that beckoned to him no matter where he was, and so he pursued it. He followed his nose and walked down a labyrinth of small alleys with his bag over his shoulder. He was tired, he needed to wash his trench coat, he had done away with his old suit that he couldn’t clean anymore, or fix the stains and tears. But the coat held too many memories to just get rid of. Then he rounded the final corner, and saw it. And shook his head because the exhaustion must have done something to his freshly human ‘custard’ as Dean had liked to refer to minds as. For in front of him, stood “A Little Slice of Heaven, the most angelic coffee and cake you’ll ever have”. It had neon signs and pastries in the window. There was a depiction of an angel announcing the slogan through a horn beside the name of the shop.

It was about then that Cas decided he must be incredibly exhausted, and passed out on the front step, his bag hitting the door as he crumbled to the ground.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love you all, Mira xoxo

They’d been back at the bunker for a week now, and Dean hadn’t left the garage for most of it. Sam wasn’t too concerned about Dean’s wellbeing, he was eating and working on his car. He knew that his brother wasn’t sleeping well, but Dean had never slept well. Sam had hoped that coming back to the bunker and having his room back would help. It had a bit, but it was obvious that he just needed time to work through whatever was going on in his head, and working on the Impala always seemed to help him with that. He was rebuilding it for the, god, Sam had lost count how many times this would make it. But it was the only constant they’d had in their life, and both boys had considered throwing Crowley out when he had suggested they,  
“Just get a new car, surely you can get something for less than that pile of rubble will cost to rebuild.”  
It hadn’t gone down well at all. Dean had threatened to strangle Crowley with his own tonsils and make him pull out and then eat his own spleen. Sam wasn’t sure just how human Crowley was, and if he had any demon juice left, because as Dean threw a punch at him the light bulbs had shattered and Dean and Crowley had just settled it with a glaring match. Their confrontation ended, even if it was just to clean up the glass and replace the bulbs. He had tested Crowley, and he’d been surprisingly cooperative about the whole thing. Devil traps and holy water had no effect, and the two had just put it down to faulty wiring, or an electrical surge. They hadn’t had any problems in the past but, who knows how old the place was. Sam was still finding new rooms and old boxes in them. He’d found accounts of both US and Soviet spies from the Cold War, apparently the confrontation wasn’t as human as the books taught, and the weapon advances were through demon deals. Now that made a lot more sense. He had found old Templar manuscripts and finance books, they had funded a lot of the major power players in the last few centuries and appeared to be a subsidiary of the Men of Letters. As far as Sam could tell, up till Abaddon had wiped out the last of them, the Men of Letters had played a major part in maintaining some semblance of order in the world.  
None of this was what he was looking for though, he wanted to know why he hadn’t been killed. It hadn’t been God, and it was pretty clear that he should be. So he was searching, and he was going to keep searching until he found something.  
~~~~~~~~  
Thump. Thump. Bang. Bang. God working on his baby was therapeutic. Where was the- ah, there it is, I swear it was on the other side of the room. No. Dean banished that thought. Last time things started moving themselves it was Bobby, and he didn’t want to deal with another dead friend. He must have brought it over with him. Back to fixing his car, that’s better.  
Dean had been livid when he’d broken through the forest and seen the wreckage of what was left of his baby next to a white van. He had built that thing from the ground up more times than he could count. She was the only constant in what was his miserably changeable life, and she’d never been in worse condition. The top had been blown out and now resembled a pull top tin, and the doors and glass were gone, either shattered or lying in the ditch on the side of the road. The steering wheel was hanging from the branch of a tree and the supports were bent and twisted. The car resembled a mangled piece of metal that they might find in the back of an old shed, or a grenade fragment. Either worked and Dean had broken down, he wasn’t proud of it but it was true.  
Kevin and Crowley had tried to convince him to just leave it there, but Sam had just gotten a rope from the back of the van, and tied what was left of the body of the Impala to the back of the van and started gathering the scrap metal. The former demon and prophet joined and soon all that was left was the steering wheel in the tree. It was a good four metres up and even Sam was struggling to reach it.  
“Well go on, jump moose.”  
“I’m not sure that would help Crowley, I’d have to jump a metre.”  
“Go on, jump for me moose, jump.”  
Sam had turned frustrated eyes on Dean and Kevin. The latter had been wisely staying out of it, but he had been adamant on getting the last piece of his mangled puzzle back. So Sam had jumped, and reached the steering wheel much to everyone’s surprise. It had been quite a jump, but everyone had been keen to get back to the bunker. Storm clouds had gathered and it had started to spit. So they piled in the van and drove slowly back to the bunker.  
So, after a few trips to salvage yards, some far too similar to Bobby’s for Dean to be comfortable. He kept feeling like Bobby should be in a garage somewhere, working on a car. But he wasn’t and so Dean got what he needed and then got the hell out of there. Some memories were too painful. And so he worked through it all as he worked. Banished memories of his friends he’d lost. Forgot his worries about Cas. Didn’t think about why Sam was still alive. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, and so he wasn’t. He let his hands take over, and when he wasn’t working he’d go in, and eat and joke with Sam and Kevin, and glower at Crowley when he was given a chance. He wouldn’t admit it, but the demon was growing on him. Like a fungus. Dean wouldn’t trust Crowley as far as he could throw him, but he had been helpful. Who would have thought that the King of Hell had time to learn to cook, but Crowley made a mean pie. And so he was gaining Dean’s respect bit by bit. Not trust, but respect. To an extent the man was, and Dean shuddered to think it, but he was mothering them. And it was nice. It was nice to have someone making sure they ate well, and got some sleep. Sam had thrown himself into research, trying to find something else on the trials, about why he wasn’t dead. He couldn’t let it go, he needed to, and Dean had said so.  
“Sam, just stop. I don’t know why the third trial didn’t kill you. And quite frankly, I don’t care! Put down the books unless it’s to do with a hunt, or you’re reading a novel. Just leave it! You’ll do your head in trying to work it out.”  
“Dean. I need to know, the tablet was accurate about everything else. And before you kick up a stink, yes Naomi was right. Kevin translated what was left and there was definitely some fine print that you’d want to know about. ‘Upon the completion of the third trial, the soul of the one completing the trials shall shatter and their humanity shall die.’ That’s pretty crystal clear.”  
“I don’t care. Just take it, maybe the universe finally decided we need a break. We’ve lost everything, family and friends, the lot. Hell, we’ve died a few more times than is friggin normal. Just take this one and be grateful.”  
Of course, Dean knew that Sam hadn’t listened and he was still struggling with it. Not that Dean would tell him but he wasn’t coping either. On more occasions than he’d care to admit to, Crowley had come out to the garage at three in morning and told him to get his damned ass into bed or he’d lock him in next time he felt the need to bathe. And so Dean would grumble and whine, and take his sweet time cleaning up his tools as Crowley watched on with disapproval painted across his face in the doorway, in the now customary sweatpants and a t-shirt, until he was following Dean through into the bunker and would then close the bedroom door on Dean’s glowering face. Then Dean would try to sleep. He’d have a shower, scrub down and get all spots of grease out of his hair and off of his skin. And then he’d put on his pyjamas and lie down on the bed. And he’d try to sleep, he tried meditation and some yoga exercises he’d learnt from Lisa. Then he’d either lie there haunted by his thoughts until an acceptable hour in the morning to get up and have breakfast, or he’d fall into a fitful sleep where he’d be woken up by nightmares, and some nights he even made himself sick from thoughts or dreams. He knew he was a mess, but for the others sakes, he’d get up in the morning, eat whatever Crowley had cooked them and head out to the car to do it all over again.


	8. Chapter 8

As he worked the pastry to make the last of his croissants, Gabriel was fully submerged in the scent of coffee and baking sweets. Today was danish day, and so he had made all sorts of danishes. Yesterday it had been muffins, and the day before it had been chocolate truffles. There was no permanent menu at his bakery, there never had been. It was just whatever he felt like making. When he’d first bought the defunct bakery and sweet shop with Kali’s, from what he could tell, infinite credit card, he’d just planned on living there. He had only picked it because even without his power, he could just sense and smell the sugar that had passed through the walls, he hadn’t planned on opening a shop. It started when he found out that it came with all the baker’s tools and machines, he’d made treats that he’d enjoyed and watched being made in the past. His first few attempts were utter failures. They tasted like crap and even Rusty, a small jack russel he’d adopted, wouldn’t eat it. But he got better at it, and decided sweets tasted better when he made them himself. He’d been leaving to get more butter when a little old man walked past and had said “Oh, are you opening the bakery again? I always went in there when I was a boy. Sweets were a pound for a penny and they made the best French twists. Though from the smell of it you could give them a run for their money.”

Gabriel was surprised, he hadn’t spoken to anyone other than shopkeepers, “No actually, I’m living upstairs and thought I’d use the equipment downstairs.” He was torn for a moment, he hadn’t had anyone taste his food other than his dog, but he decided that this man was nice enough, “Do you want a croissant? I’ve made too many.”

“Oh, such a kind young man, that would be lovely, thank you.” Gabriel walked back inside thinking about how much of a ‘young’ man he was compared to the gentleman outside. Handing the pastry over, Gabriel felt an uncharacteristic moment of nervousness, since when did he care what other people thought of anything he did? Nevertheless he held his breath as the man chewed his fresh croissant.

“Well boy, I think you could do it. Even if you don’t start a business, could I buy some croissants off you occasionally? This is truly delicious, I’ve never had a better croissant.”

And that was how it started, Gabriel had a lot to thank that little old man for, Brian he’d learnt his name was, but he always called him Mr Merryweather. And every time he came in he was treated to whatever new creation Gabriel had come up with. So here he was, with a fully functional sweets, bakery and coffee shop, in a small town and he was content. He was still a bit off his game and had been since he saw his younger siblings fall from the sky. This was his first week being back open, he’d closed for a while, stating family issues on the sign he’d put on the door as he mourned for his brothers and sisters.

As he put the final baked goods into his oven there was a thump on his door, “Come in, it’s open.” But there was no more noise or movement from the front of his store. “Crap.” Gabriel found his industrial sized wooden rolling pin and walked to the door. He looked out of the peephole on the solid oak door, there was nothing. “What the-?” He opened the door and saw a collapsed man face down on his doorstep. Wearing a trench coat. It didn’t mean anything. Lots of people wore trench coats. It was too much to hope for, to have a sibling that survived the heavenly massacre. No, I’m sure it’s just a man that had too much to drink and got in a barfight, that would explain the blood, it couldn’t be… He thought as he put down the pin and prepared to roll the man over. Holding his breath and hoping against hope he turned the man over. “Castiel! Cas! Come on, wake up buddy. I have coffee.”

That got Cas’s attention, his eyelids fluttered open, “Did you say coffee?” his eyes flew open fully, “Gabriel! No no no no, I had to fix it before I died! No, I have to go back! I can’t be dead.” Cas struggled under Gabriel’s hands as he tried to hold the significantly larger man down.

“Cas, Cassie. Breathe, breath with me. In and out, in and out.” As he held him the crazed look in the taller man’s eyes began to dissipate. In its place was sorrow.

“Brother, you must not look at me. For even in death it would seem I cannot escape my sins.”

“Cassie, what are you on about? You’re not dead. You’re on my door step, and I am painfully human and definitely alive.”

Cas let the ‘Cassie’ slip past for now. “But how, you were dead. The Winchester’s said-“

“Yes I know. I don’t know how. I’ll explain inside, but let’s get you in and cleaned up. You can have a nap and then we can talk, okay?” Gabriel felt a sense of family and care that he hadn’t had since before he left heaven, when he’d help teach the young angels to fly and fight.

He helped Castiel into the shop and up the stairs. “I take it you know how to use a shower?” He nodded, “Good. I’ll leave you some of my bigger clothes on the couch. Then you go crash, you hear me?”

“I don’t understand, crash? Why would I want to crash? Is it because I’m worthless and an abomination of this world? It is isn’t it-“ he slid to the floor and began crying.

Standing there mortified, Gabriel went and crouched next to him, “No, no. Crash as in sleep. You’re not worthless or an abomination. Ssssshhhhhh.” And then he began to sing a lullaby that he hadn’t sung in eons. One that Castiel hadn’t heard since he was a child. Soon the mess that was Castiel was in the shower and Gabriel was going downstairs to open up shop. What on earth had Castiel done to feel like he did? Unless he was the one that caused the angels to fall? But then he would be in heaven, and still have his grace. Gabriel may not have his, but there were no signs of it in Castiel, and he had huge great scars down his back, right where Gabriel’s had been when he walked out of the motel. Where his wings had been ripped from his back as his grace exploded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

At five o’clock the former archangel closed up his shop, and gave what he had left over to the nun who always collected what he had left over, to take to the soup bus. What a kind soul she was, and Gabriel didn’t envy whoever got to tell her that her god was a giant dick who just dropped everything and vanished, leaving his kids to bitch and kill each other. But hey, nice lady. He flipped the sign on the window, pulled the blinds, locked the door, turned the lights off, grabbed the two muffins he’d saved and headed up stairs. He found his brother passed out completely on his bed. He looked so peaceful, and Gabriel didn’t want to wake him and so stepped quietly out of the room. However the universe seemed to have other ideas, and Rusty seeing they had a visitor, ran in and jumped on Castiel in greeting. The tousled haired man sat bolt upright in alarm at having something lick his cheek. “Gah!” Panic turned to relief at discovering it was just a dog, and nothing life threating.

“Rusty, get over here.”

“No Gabriel,” Cas said as he rubbed the small terrier’s tummy, “He’s fine. It’s an appropriate time for me to wake up anyway.”

“So Cassie, how you feeling?”

“I’m fine, much better. Thank you Gabriel. Your kindness is unexpected, and I’m not deserving of it.”

Choosing to leave the last part of that sentence to deal with later,  Gabriel asked, “Well, I’m sure you must be hungry, come have something to eat.”

The two of them moved over to the wooden dining table and sat down. “Here, now, do you want the blueberry or the chocolate?”

“I do not mind brother.”

“Come on Cassie, you’ve got to have a favourite.”

“I suppose the blueberry, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all bro, I am quite partial to chocolate anyhow.” Gabriel watched Cas as he picked at his muffin. His younger brother was obviously exhausted, but the exhaustion reached further than just physical and mental. He was emotionally tired, and his eyes betrayed his guilt and an emptiness that terrified Gabriel.

“You wanted to know how I’m still alive?” This got Castiel’s attention.

“I am mildly curious.”

And so Gabriel told him what he knew, which wasn’t much, and how he got to where he was now. “I suppose it might have been Dad, but I don’t know.”

“He has brought me back from the dead, perhaps he felt you had work left to do?”

“Maybe.”

They both finished their muffins in silence. Cas folded his muffin case, and Gabriel screwed his up in a ball. “Ok Castiel, what’s going on?”

Big sapphire eyes looked up at him, “Brother, I, I, I can’t. I have betrayed them all. You will not wish to know me once I’ve told you. Not that I deserve any fate other than…” Cas started rambling and so Gabriel interrupted him.

“Hey, hey. Tell me, what’s happened?”

“They fell, they all fell. And it’s my fault.” Tear filled orbs glanced away in shame.

“What? Start from the start. Tell me everything that has happened since Luci killed me.” 

And so the two sat there for hours, as Cas explained about the end of the Apocalypse, about the Alphas, the civil war in Heaven, his stint as ‘God’, Purgatory, the Leviathans, the trials, Naomi and Metatron. Right up until Cas arrived on Gabriel’s doorstep. Gabriel listened as his brother talked, comforting him when he struggled and clarifying when his brother didn’t quite explain something. Some of the events that had passed, the Leviathans, in the world? They found the tablets? Some of the things shocked him, but he schooled his expression and tried to remain neutral, just so as not to scare his brother off.

“And now here I am. Thank you for the muffin Gabriel, and the clothes. It is more than I deserved.” Cas stood up and went to grab his coat. Still processing what he’d just heard, Gabriel sat there in shock before realising where the taller man was going. He jumped from his chair and embraced his brother in the biggest hug he could remember.

“Nuh uh Cassie, you’re not going anywhere. We’ve all screwed up, I ran away from heaven and killed a lot of innocents in my pagan days, and some more recent days. You certainly seem to have a talent for attracting big trouble, but you’re my brother, and you’re staying here. I forgive you; I forgive you for all of it. And I’m sure Dad does too, I promise.” Castiel slid to the floor and Gabriel moved with him, and they both wept. Wept for family, wept for loss, wept for forgiveness, and wept for finally finding the family they thought they had lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, all the boys should be catching up soon. Then the real fun begins. Ehehehe. Love Mira xx


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long, but exams and just life in general, eurgh. But still, just a short chapter this time, next one should be a bit longer (Yay!) anyways, love you all xx

Gabe had just dashed out to get some more suitable food, like pasta and vegetables, now that he had Castiel living with him. Up until now he’d been surviving on take out and sweets, but it had taken a toll on his vessel- no, it was his body now. And Cassie showing up gave him the perfect excuse to actually cook some decent food, and try and reverse some of the extra pudge he’d acquired around his middle. Looking through the green grocers stocks, attempting to find the right vegetables for a stir fry, he heard a great crash behind him. Turning around he dropped the capsicum he was holding. Right there, creating chaos in the spice racks, was a very tall, very shaggy, Sam Winchester.

~~~~~~~~~~

Crap, Sam was sure he hadn’t been touching that rack, why the hell did it fall over? Turning around, another went over behind him. What? He wasn’t touching them, why was this happening? His back spasmed, right up near his shoulders and he fell to the ground, dropping the jars of cinnamon and nutmeg that Crowley had sent him out for. What was happening?

“Mister, are you ok?” the young, blonde shop assistant hurried over.

“I’m fine, just a bad back. I’m sorry about the shelves. Let me help.” Sam picked himself up off the floor and stood the racks back up and put the shelves back in.

“At least they were the bagged spices, imagine how much of a mess it would’ve made if the jarred ones went over.” The blonde giggled as she picked up some of the stock, “I’m Janet by the way.”

“Sam.”

“Janet! Get back and serve, I’ll send the boys over.”

“Coming! Bye Sam, nice to meet you.” Sam watched her as she walked away, cute, but not really his type. Looked a little too much like Becky for his liking.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Gabriel watched the proceedings from behind the tower of apples. The younger Winchester helped the blonde and then two boys in their teens pick up and rearrange all the spices. He’d forgotten how tall the moose was, and how selfless the two brothers were. Gabriel stayed there until Sam walked out of the shop, oddly enough without anything.

“Um, sorry. Can I help you with anything, it’s just you’ve been there for a while.” Gabriel started and turned around. The blonde girl, mid-twenties at a guess was standing behind him.

“Nope. I’m fine, just inspecting the apples. Veeeery nice produce.”

“Ok… Well if you need anything.”

“Yes, thanks.” He sent her a winning smile and went back to inspecting the capsicums. As he looked for the bok choy- did they seriously not have any Asian greens?- he thought about his close encounter with the hunter. It would have been so easy to just go over and announce himself, but what was with those shelves? Sam hadn’t been touching them. It was almost like- no, that hadn’t happened for millennia. And if he made himself known to them, would he survive the encounter? Last time he’d seen them he’d given them instructions that they’d used to throw Sam in the pit. That might not go down so well. And Cassie, if Cassie found out they were close. He was still fragile. Best not to introduce that element until he was sure that his younger brother was more stable. But it wasn't just that, something felt 'off' about the Winchester, like he had some sort of aura that Gabriel couldn't see but could still sense. Something was different. So Gabriel purchased the sad excuse for stir fry vegetables from the flirty assistant, and left the store. Heading back to his shop that he had left in Cas’s surprisingly, capable hands.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, it's another one! Now, I've forgotten this for the past few chapters, but I own nothing, at all, not even a small character, ok, Brian Merryweather's mine, but that's it. *cries. Anyhoo, xx Mira

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DIDN’T GET THE SPICES?!!!”

“I’m sorry, but the shelves were falling over, and then I was helping clean up and I just-“

“I DON’T CARE HOW CLUMSY YOU ARE!” Crowley looked as livid as a short British man in a frilly apron could.

“Look, I’ll just go and get some now.” Sam cringed back from the cook, man could he yell.

“There’s no point now, by the time you get back there won’t be time for me to make it. But I’m not telling your brother. That’s all yours.” The shorter man turned on his heels and stormed back into the kitchen.

“Telling your brother what? What are you telling me Sam?” Sam turned around to see Dean leaning in the doorway with his eyebrows raised.

“Iforgotthecinnamonandnutmeg.” He mumbled.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. I swear you just said you forgot some of the most important ingredients for apple pie.”

“Look Dean, I’m sorry. I’ve just had a rough morning.”

“No Sam. That’s fine. What’s Sunday lunch without pie, it’s fine.” Dean’s face got a stormy look, before, “Hang on, there’s that diner just in town. They sell pie don’t they?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Sam watched his brother’s face light up.

“That’s it then. Me and my baby are gonna go get me some pie.” Dean grinned as he dangled the keys in front of his brother.

“You finished it! I am so coming!”

“Nuh uh. This is just for me and baby. You, get to stay here, and reflect on the fact that you forgot the spices.” Dean jabbed his finger at Sam, and his younger brother watched as he bounced up the stairs to the garage; with more joy than he’d seen in him for a while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Climbing into his car, and putting his favourite ACDC tape in the player, Dean let the automatic door roll up and he was soon cruising on the road, out to get some pie. He wasn’t perfect, hell, he was still an emotional wreck. But having his car back up and running made it just that little bit better.

“Baby, what you want, it’s the way you move!” Dean pelted out the lyrics as he reached the town. Man it was good to be back in his chevy. He’d missed this, just driving and classic rock, the smell of leather and gun oil. It was nice.

He found the small mum’n’pop diner that sold the best pie in town and parked the Impala just outside the door. Getting out and locking up, he stood back, just to admire the true beauty of his magnificent car. He’d done a good job of it if he did say so himself. If this hunter thing ever stopped, he thought, he might have a future in body works. The ring of the door opening, and the smell of burgers pulled him back to his purpose of leaving the bunker.

“Hi, I’d like an apple pie to go thanks.” Dean shot the brown haired waiter a smile.

“I’m sorry, but we’re out of apple.” He said apologetically.

“Nah, that’s fine. I’ll take a cherry, or a pecan then.” It wasn’t apple, but hey, it was still pie.

“I’m really sorry about this, but it looks like we’re out of pie completely.”

“Uh,” Dean rested his head on his arms, “Of course you are.” Of course they were, just as things were looking up, it was going to come crashing down, no pie. His despair must have shown, because the waiter checked over his shoulder before telling him,

“Look, I’m not meant to tell you this, but we buy our pie from a bakery just a few blocks away. They might still have some.”

“Seriously, dude. You’re a lifesaver!” The waiter wrote down the address on the back of a napkin and handed it to Dean.

“Hey, if you ever want to catch up sometime, you know where to find me.” The waiter sent a flirtatious wink at Dean. He looked up in shock, normally he was the one doing the flirting. The waiter was admittedly, quite handsome, with blue eyes. But, it just wasn’t doing anything for Dean.

“Sure, see you round. Thanks for the tip on the pie.” It wasn’t until Dean was in the Impala that he realised that the waiter was a waiter, not a waitress. And that it hadn’t bothered him. But he purposefully chose to ignore the fact that it was a whole different set of blue eyes that was haunting him as he drove the few blocks to the bakery.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cas was just putting the new pies in the oven when Gabriel had gotten back from the grocers, looking more frazzled than he expected a shopping trip to have cause for.

“Brother, are you well?”

“Cassie, call me Gabe. It’s easier and more,” Gabriel struggled for an appropriate word, “Normal. I’m fine, they just didn’t have the vegies I wanted.”

“That’s ok. We can make do. I’m almost finished the pies.”

“Good, it’s almost noon, and then the poor sods will come pouring through for their short lunch break. I’m just going to dash upstairs and put this stuff away. Will you be ok?”

“Gabriel,” Cas sighed indignantly, “I’ve managed the shop for much longer without you. I’ll be fine.”

“Ok then, well, I’m upstairs if you need me.” It was true, Castiel had so far been a natural with baking and the whole customer service side of things. He’d even managed to work the coffee machine the other day without too much difficulty. Gabriel was quite impressed.

Cas watched his brother take his shopping bags up the stairs, and returned to putting the finishing touches of icing on the new gingerbread biscuits his brother had made- ‘ _Who says gingerbread’s just for Christmas?_ ’- and warming the coffee machine up for the lunch rush when he heard the door ring as it opened. He looked up and found himself looking into a pair of emerald green eyes. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so big shout out and hug to Kate, honey you're gorgeous, glad you like it. I have a plan for the next chapter, but my weekend's gonna be a bit busy, but I'll try squish in some writing time. Mira xx

The cup Cas had been holding shattered on the floor.

“Dean,” it came out as little more than a whisper.

“Cas? Is that really you?” Emotions flitted across Dean’s face. Confusion, hope, joy and something more tender. He hadn’t dared hope to see his best friend again, he hadn’t dared hope he was still alive. Yet here he was, standing in front of him, white t-shirt, slacks and an apron, with a smudge of icing across his cheek. His hair just like it had been when they’d first met, and piercing sapphire eyes opened wide in shock.

“Dean, I-“ Cas stopped, how was he to tell his friend that he was not worthy of his companionship? How was he to tell him of his sins?

“Cas come here.” Dean’s voice, gruff with emotion cut through his thoughts and he found himself enveloped in a hug. The scent of gun oil, leather and just, Dean, made Cas feel more at home than he had in sometime. He didn’t deserve this, but he couldn’t help sink into the hug and return it, wrapping his arms around Dean, not wanting to let go. But, he needed to tell Dean, to let him know that he was too good for a fallen angel, to tell him that his friend was single handedly responsible for the host of heaven falling to the cage. But he couldn’t make himself. He felt so warm, there was something about Dean that reminded him of his heaven, before it was torn apart by civil war, when his father was still present. Dean’s warmth seemed to reach out and envelop him, it was heavenly, in all senses of the word.

Dean held the back of Cas’s head, running his fingers through the messy hair, with his other arm wrapped around Cas. Just holding him there until he returned the hug. He thought he’d lost his best friend, he thought he was gone forever. No God bringing him back this time. But here he was, in a little bakery ten minutes from the bunker. Dean didn’t know how or why, but he could ask questions later. For now he was just happy to hold Cas, to just make himself believe that he was real. He breathed in, and all he could smell was pie, coffee, and just Cas. Dean felt something begin to unwind in himself, all the tension that he had all balled up in him slowly dissipated.

So the two of them just stood there, finding comfort in the other, leaving questions for later, and Dean just said,

“Cas, you have icing on your cheek.” The two of them held on to each other and laughed with the joy of having the other back, safe and alive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gabriel had just been washing the spinach and tomatoes in the sink when he heard a crash from downstairs, like a shattering plate.

“Cassie, everything ok?” No response, this couldn’t be good. Drying his hands and making his way across the living room, Gabriel grabbed a chup-a-chup and told Rusty to stay. Then he made his way down the stairs.

“Castiel, are you ok? You’re not just passed out on the floor or someth-“ Gabriel trailed off as he rounded the corner and saw his brother being very tightly embraced, and returning it, by a tall, sandy blonde haired man in a brown leather jacket. Crap. Winchester. He watched the two slowly separate and realise they had an audience.

“Deano, how you been?” Gabriel sucked on his lollypop and tried to look nonchalant given that, standing right in the middle of his bakery, was one of the men that he had been trying to keep away from his rather, fragile minded, younger brother.

“Trickster,” Dean growled, “Wait what? You were- Casa Erotica- you, have some explaining to do.” Dean had stepped a little away from Cas, but the two were still pressed together side by side. Gabriel arched an eyebrow and looked at Cas, his younger brother looked more relaxed than he’d seen since he had turned up on his doorstep.

“Yes, well. I think you do too. What are you doing in my bakery?”

“ _Your_ bakery. You, own, a bakery.”

“Yes, have since I woke up at Elysian Fields graceless. But that’s a story for another time. What, are you doing here?”

“Gabriel, leave Dean alone, he is welcome here.”

“I have no doubt he is Cassie-“

“It’s Castiel.”

“I have no doubt he is, Castiel,” Gabriel sneered, still a little sensitive over the fact that he wasn’t able to shield his brother from a reminder of his past, a reminder that for all he knew could trigger a breakdown, “But I still want to know why he is here.”

“Well, Sam forgot the spices, and the diner was out of pie, and they sent me here.”

“The pies!” Cas’s eyebrows shot up as he ran towards the kitchen. Gabriel and Dean stood in an awkward silence, neither willing to make conversation with the other. But then the smell of pie wafted out through the shop.

“Is that, is that apple pie?” Dean took a deep breath.

“Yeah it is, Cassie’s actually quite good at baking. I leave the pies and slices to him now.”

“You mean, you taught Cas to bake pie? I’m gonna have to give you some brownie points for that.”

“Well, he really taught himself, said he based it upon his experiences of pie. I take it that was your doing? I don’t really see him going out to get pie for himself.” Gabriel was curious, Cas had given him a rundown of the major events, but hadn’t given him much on the time he had spent with the Winchesters.

“Yeah, I made him try it a few times, but mostly he just sniffed it.” Dean cracked a smile at the memory of a particularly confused waitress.

Cas emerged from the kitchen with a box, and inside that box was a pie that Dean had never seen the likes of. His mouth was watering at the sight of it, and the fact that his best friend had made it, it just made it better.

“Ok, I’ve decided. Cas, you’re coming with me. It’s Sunday lunch, and you are invited.” Dean looked up to see Cas smiling.

Cas thought, it was nice to see Dean happy because of something he’d done. “I’d like to do that Dean. But I need to tell you, about, what happened.” Cas trailed off, losing the smile that had graced his face just moments before.

Dean saw the grin leaving, “Nope. We can talk after lunch. Let’s go.” He put his hand on Cas’s shoulder.

“Aww, aren’t I invited?” The joking grin was there, but Gabriel’s eyes were hard.

“Gabriel. What about the shop. It’s almost lunch.” Castiel was, as always, the practical one.

“I’m sure we can miss one lunch.” Gabriel looked determined, and it occurred to Dean that he didn’t know what shape Cas was in, but Gabriel did, and didn’t seem to want to let him out of his sight. Putting himself in the shorter man’s shoes, he could see where he was coming from, and it had him concerned for his friend’s wellbeing.

“Ok trickster, you can come too. But you’re sitting in the back, and only if I get an extra pie.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is just kinda a filler chapter, I'm struggling to write the next one, but I should get there eventually. This just seemed like I could do this, so yep. AAnnyways, xx

Gabriel sat in the back of the car, and watched the two men in the front interact. It was, educational, to say the least. When he’d walked in on the hug, the thought that they might be more than friends had crossed his mind, but watching them now… It was like they were, but they didn’t know it. Dean would send a sideways glance towards Cas when he wasn’t looking, as if just to check he was there and real. And just as Dean put his eyes back on the road, much to Gabriel’s relief, Cas would look over and stare intently at the side of Deans face. There was something lighter about Cas, he seemed happier, but Gabriel could see how troubled he was, but it was a different kind of troubled. It wasn’t the troubled that scared Gabriel, it wasn’t, that.

For the first few days that he stayed with Gabriel, he barely talked. He just sat and stared, sometimes he cried. But it was the silence that worried Gabriel. He’d woken up one night to find no Cas in the apartment. He had run down to the bakery, faster than he had for a while, worried that Cas had finally snapped. But he hadn’t gone that way, which had left the rooftop. Gabriel shivered at the memory of the feeling of dread that had settled in his stomach. He had hurtled up the stairs, through the attic, and had flung himself through the door to find his younger brother standing on the roof edge. He had just stood there, dressing gown whipping around his legs in the wind, not seeming to mind that there was a 3 story drop just 10cm from his toes.

_“Cas, do you wanna come back here buddy?”_

_“Why Gabriel? There’s nothing left for me to do. Even if I tried I would just hurt someone else. That’s all I do, hurt people. Isn’t it better for me just to end it? Wouldn’t that be the noble thing to do?”_

_“No Cassie, no.” Gabriel teared up as his brother turned around, the look of complete hopelessness clear as the night sky on his face._

_“You don’t understand, I have killed half of Heaven, and the half that was left I cast into Lucifer’s cage. All I do is hurt people. And disappoint people, like Dad, and Dean,” Cas sobbed, “When I killed the angels, I was afraid I might kill myself. Now I’ve done this too, and I’m powerless to fix it. I might as well just throw myself of the edge. It’d be easier than living with this. Gabriel, I just, just, I can’t do this anymore.”_

_“Castiel Angel of Thursday, Son and Creation of our Father, you have never done anything you didn’t think was the right thing to do. Step over here, come down off the ledge. Please brother, please. Cassie, please, just do this, for me.” Gabriel had fallen to his knees, the last thing he needed on his conscience was not being able to stop his brother doing this, he couldn’t lose his brother, and Cassie didn’t deserve this, not one bit._

_“Gabriel,” Cas choked, his tears streaming down his face, “How can I live with this? I’ve tried, but I just, I don’t know how to.”_

_“I’ll help you Cassie, I can help, just please.”_

Cas had stepped down off that ledge and had gone back to the apartment with Gabriel. He had sat down on the couch in front of late night TV show reruns as his brother made him hot chocolate, and the two of them had sat there until morning. Just being, talking occasionally and watching TV that got worse as the morning went on. That morning was the first Gabriel had gotten Cas to help downstairs. He had been surprised when he asked to make pie, of course that made sense now, but he had let him and Cas gained confidence, and had continued to do so. But there was still something that hadn’t healed, if anything Gabriel felt like he was putting a bandaid on a gash that stretched the entirety of his brother’s being. But he seemed like being around Dean helped, more like stiches, and he wasn’t about to get in the way of that, but he’d be damned if he let his little brother out of sight.

He watched as the two in the front seat finally made eye contact, and wow, man, could they stare. The two of them just sat like that, staring like they could see each other’s souls. Woh. Yep. There was definitely something else going on there. And then there was the weird aura that the two were giving off, not just the normal _I missed you and I’m glad you’re back_ , something weirder, that could be, no, nope. Too weird. Gabriel shook his head at his own thoughts before looking back up, straight out the window at

“BRAKE!!! THERE’S A DEER ON THE ROAD.” Gabriel screeched at the two,

“SONOVABITCH!” Dean broke eye contact and slammed the breaks on. They all went forward, before coming back, Dean swearing when his back hit the seat.

“Dean, are you hurt?” Cas said with concern shining in his eyes.

“I’m fine Cas, my back’s a bit tender but it’ll be good in a bit.”

Taking a few deep breaths Gabriel said with a raised eyebrow, “Maybe next time the two of you could spend less time staring at each other so Dean can watch the road.” The two both snapped their heads around to the back seat, before putting their eyes back on the road, as they picked up speed. And Gabriel sat in the back, trying, oh he was trying so hard, not to laugh as a blush crept up over the collars of both the boys in the front. Yep, he sniggered to himself, definitely something else going on there.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't own anything, sadly, oh how I wish I did, but it is most definitely for the best.

Sam was clearing the table when it happened, when the tension between Kevin and Crowley had finally broken. Since they’d gotten back, you could hardly breathe in any room with the two of them in. Sam had to hand it to them though, they spoke to each other as mature adult-humans, even if they were a bit terse at times, but from the crashing sounds coming from the kitchen it would seem that their truce was over.

“YOU KILLED MY MUM! YOU THINK THAT’S JUST SOMETHING I CAN FORGIVE AND FORGET?”

“LISTEN HERE BUDDY BOY, I DIDN’T LAY A FINGER ON YOUR MUM-“

“NO! YOU JUST GAVE THE ORDER TO HAVE HER MURDERED. BUT YOU KNOW WHO YOU DID KILL, YOU KILLED MY GIRLFRIEND, AND I SAW YOU DO IT!”

“I WAS KING OF HELL, A DEMON. AND IF YOU DON’T THINK I REGRET THOSE PEOPLE BEING KILLED EVERYDAY THEN YOU’RE STUPIDER THAN I THOUGHT!” Crowley’s voice cracked, and as Sam ran to the kitchen doorway, he saw that both men were in tears. Kevin wielding the spatula and Crowley covered in coleslaw.

“I’m not saying you don’t regret it, I just wish you, I just” Kevin took a shaky breath, “I blame myself for dragging them both of them into this,” tears streamed down his face as he sank to the floor, “If I’d just left, just not involved either of them at all, if I had…” he dissolved into sobs, and Sam saw Crowley crying with him. The former King of Hell had adjusted to humanity well, and was the ‘den mother’, always looking after them when they needed him to.

“Kevin, it’s, it’s not your fault. You were always going to be a prophet, there was no way you could have,” Crowley knelt down next to him, “no way you could have avoided it. This is all my fault.” Sam took a step back into the hallway and let the two talk, they needed to sort this out. His interference wouldn’t be welcome or productive; of course he had to listen, just in case they started fighting again. The kitchen was quiet for a moment, the only sound the unsteady breathing of them.

“Kevin,” Crowley leant back against the cabinets, “I need to tell you something, about you being a prophet. You never stood a chance-“

“Yeah, yeah. I know. God’s will and all that crap.”

“No, because of your, genetics.”

“My what?” Kevin raised his head.

“Your father, he,” Crowley took a deep breath, he knew that it wouldn’t take the young man long to work it out, “He was a demonized fallen angel. You have all three of the major players’ blood running through your veins. That’s why you never stood a chance, because you were the perfect mix. Did you ever wonder why you adjusted and survived so easily? It’s because you had instincts of all of us; the love of humanity, the cunning of demons and the combat skills of the angels.”

“Did you, did you know my father? Did you kill him too?” He stared accusingly at Crowley with puffy red eyes.

“Kevin, I, um, I didn’t kill him. It’s in my best interests not to.” Crowley looked down, not wanting to meet Kevin’s gaze, but pleading with him to make the connection.

“No. Nuh uh. Nope.” He looked like he was about to pass out, the pieces of the puzzle had clicked together.

“I’m sorry Kevin. I really am, I’m so sorry.” Crowley looked haggard and tired, tears dripping off his face. “I tried to tell you before, I hoped you could piece it together. I’m a coward, I’m just a murdering coward.” He hung his head in shame.

“So, when you teased me about who my father was being ‘scandalous’, and when you kidnapped me and called me,” Kevin swallowed his scream, “Prince,” he finished the sentence in a whisper.

“I know, Kevin. I’m just, I can’t.”

“I can’t talk to you now, I need some,” Kevin rose unsteadily to his feet, “I need some space, some space to think.”

“Kevin, please,” wracked with sobs Crowley called after him, “Please don’t judge me too harshly.”

Sam sank shakily into a chair as Kevin went running past, his shoulders shaking. That had been, been. Just. Wow. Ok. Yep. This was a mess, and he didn’t see it being cleaned up anytime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, not entirely sure why the story did that, but hey. My brain tends to spit out what it wants, paying very little attention to the plot I was going with but hey, why not? Anyways, xx


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I OWN NOTHING AND IT IS PROBABLY FOR THE BEST EHehehehehe

Dean couldn’t wait to see Sam’s face when he told him that Cas was back. Kevin was going to pleased too. He wasn’t sure about Crowley, but hopefully the two of them could at least sort of bond over being freshly human. Gabriel’s reception could be, interesting. Sam might try and kill him, but he did save their lives last time they met so… Dean pulled himself out of his thoughts as he drove into the garage just around the back of the bunker. The roar of the engine stilled, and Cas sat up straighter.

“You ready Cas?”

“Yes Dean, let’s go.” He sent Dean a strained smile, one that could easily be seen through. He was understandably uncertain about seeing Crowley again, after what had happened. But Castiel was going to see this through, and Dean was giving him the comfort and shoulder to lean on that he required.

“Got the pies Trickster?” Dean glanced over to see Gabriel extracting himself and the pies out of the back seat.

“Yes your royal highness.” Gabriel shot a snarky grin over the roof of the Impala.

“Shut it. Let’s go.” Dean reached out to open the door, and was almost bowled over by a very teary, very upset and very fast prophet. “Kevin? Kevin! KEVIN!” A small desk lamp bulb blew on the corner desk, but he just kept running. Dean glanced between Cas and the increasingly distant prophet.

“Don’t bother Dean,” Sam called from the other end of the hallway, “He just needs some,” Sam pushed his hair out of his eyes as he got to the door and looked up, “space…”

“Hello Sam.”

“Cas! You’re alive! I’m so glad.” Sam’s face stretched into a grin as he engulfed Cas in a hug.

“There one of those for me too?” Sam looked up as all 5ft 6 of a sweet loving, caramel haired, fallen archangel came around the side of the car with a smirk on his face.

“Gabriel! You’re, but how?”

“All in good time sasquatch. But I was promised lunch, and I have pie.” He wiggled his eyebrows and stepped inside.

“Dean, what did you do? Where did you find them?”

“Bakery. Now, why was Kevin running away like a 15 year old girl who got dumped on prom?”

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, we better talk about that inside. Just, don’t say anything to Crowley please. Don’t tease or give him a hard time like you normally do. I’ll explain over lunch.” Sam turned and went to try find Gabriel before he wreaked too much havoc with Crowley or the food.

“Hey Cas,” blue eyes met green, “Welcome home.”

“Yes, the chaos does seem to be reminiscent of our time together.”

“Man, I missed you, I’m so glad you’re back, back here.” The ‘home’ went unsaid, but they both knew it was there.

Cas smiled, “Come on Dean, let’s go eat.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Crowley?” The former King of Hell looked like he’d come down a few notches since he’d last seen his friend. He was slumped over on the kitchen floor, covered in cabbage and salad dressing.

“Loki? Gabriel? Who are you now?” Red swollen eyes peered up at him from the floor.

“I’m human, but Gabriel will do, from the looks of it you are too. You ok?”

“Huh,” Crowley snorted, “No I’m fine. Just a weak human upsetting and disappointing people. Just fine.”

“Well at least you have some snark, it can’t be too bad. Wanna talk to me?”

“Thanks, but I’d rather only have to tell it once, and I’m sure the boys will want to hear it too. Speak of the devils.”

“Hi. Ok. Gabriel this is-“

“Crowley, former King of Hell, amongst other things. I know.”

“You two know each other?”

“Well moose, two of the most powerful beings are on earth without many others for a few millennia, you tend to bump into each other. Gabriel, or Loki as he was called when we first met down here, and we were actually quite close back in the day.”

“Wait up, millennia? I thought you were more, recent?”

“I think it might be story time over lunch. Well, make yourself useful; take the chips and salad out you two. We’ll have to make do without the coleslaw, and Gabriel, put the pies in the oven.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once all five of them were seated comfortably around the table, and beers had been handed out, Crowley began to talk. The silence and stillness of the room only interrupted by Sam itching his back on the chair.

“I’m not just a human turned demon. I was one of God’s original angels, not an archangel, but one of the first batch that came out. But as all first attempts are, we weren’t perfect. There were five of us. Two went insane and killed one of the others. Michael and Lucifer dealt with them and there were two of us left. Gabriel and Raphael convinced them to let us live, that perhaps they were just bad eggs and we were fine. The six of us lived in harmony for quite some time, we were close. Which made it that much harder on all of us when she, the other angel, slowly began to descend into madness. Not the violent murdering madness of the other two, a different kind of insanity. They locked her up when it became apparent that they had no choice, and I knew there was very little time left for me. Michael called on God to come and do a ‘check-up’, to help him work out how to improve the future angels. Naomi told me to run, to leave her and save myself. I couldn’t. I hid and watched as they drilled into her, the beginning of her own work. It changed them, my brothers. Michael and Raphael became hardened, Lucifer began to question Heaven, and Gabriel over there, he began to withdraw from the others. Soon she was a robotic tool like Michael wanted, and they showed her to God. He replicated it and I fled Heaven. My home had become institutional, and the archangels retreated. It was no longer my home. I became the first fallen angel. I tore my grace out, most of it anyway, and fell to Earth. I lived like that for quite some time, always travelling so that my immortality wasn’t noticed. I heard of my brother’s descent down to Hell, how he created a new race. I was homesick, I missed my family and so I made a deal. I went down and he recognized me, the small part of grace that I had left. He turned me himself you know, made it as comfortable as possible, and gave me a crossroads position away from the main action. A demonic fallen angel? If the knights of hell had found out, that wouldn’t have been nice. Because I still had grace I was able to go to the surface without a vessel. Sometimes I lived as a human, sometimes I was a demon. I slept around, I lived the high life, drank the finest whisky I could get my hands on, but I always made sure that I never fathered a child. Sometimes I killed them if they were pregnant, other times I’d just kill the baby. But about 20 years ago I met this fearsome woman, a real tiger, with proper spirit. I hung around longer than I normally did, hell, I fell in love with her, and when she told me she was with child, my child! I couldn’t kill her, or the baby, it would break her heart. So I left, and I prayed to Heaven, I prayed to my father for the first time in eons, I asked him to look after this child. As soon as I saw Linda again, I knew who Kevin was, I couldn’t handle it. Giving the order to have her killed was the hardest thing I’d done since I left Heaven. And here I am, human after all this time. When you boys purified me, you didn’t just remove a demonic, twisted soul. It was tainted grace, that’s why the explosion was so big, the spell wasn’t meant for that sort of release.”

They all sat in silence, food and beers forgotten, as Crowley told his tale. Gabriel was the first to react; he stood up and enveloped him in a brotherly hug. “I knew I recognized you, I thought you were just some pagan god gone demon, why didn’t you tell me?”

Sam’s phone beeped on the table, it was a text from Kevin

Kevin: Sam, I called Charlie, gonna stay with her for a while. Don’t try drag me back please, I need some thinking time.

“Well, Charlie will look after him.” Eager to change the subject, Crowley looked like he might start crying again, “Now, Gabriel and Cas, what have you two been up to?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Setting up to have Crowley leave the bunker, I might continue that line of plot at some future point, but for now, hopefully the boys can kick start their love lives. I do apologize, this has dragged out longer than I'd intended, Mira xx


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick chapter to round out Crowley's story.

It took a little under a week for Crowley to find something else to do. Being in the bunker was a painful reminder of what he’d lost, all of it. Watching Dean and Cas stare into each other’s eyes like it was the last night on Earth was starting to wear thin, and being around the two sets of brothers just hurt him, right down to what he would have called his grace, but was now his soul. It was time to move on. It’d taken a few days to convince the brothers to let him go live a life, but after Gabriel had pulled them aside they had agreed; on the condition that he went no further than a day’s drive. And so armed with a fake credit card and credentials, and some new clothes he set off to a small town that was looking for someone with retail experience to work in a real estate agency, how fitting, making deals that could make or break people. He had to admit he appreciated the notion. There was a small apartment just down the street from the shop, and he settled into the town quite nicely, knowing that help was only a call away.


	16. Chapter 16

The first few days of Crowley’s absence left the bunker feeling empty for Sam and Dean. They were used to there being four people wandering its hallways, and now there was only two. So they invited the ‘Novak’s as they were legally, over every night once they’d closed up the bakery, and the two former angels always greeted them with at least one baked good. Sometimes there was a cinnamon bun, sometimes it was a pile of profiteroles, but there was always a pie. Gabriel had pulled Sam aside one night and told him between sniggers that Castiel always solemnly insisted they take a pie, ‘Dean doesn’t like it when you forget pie’. The two of them had spent the rest of the evening which included the first two episodes of Game of Thrones, quietly chuckling behind their hands, unable to keep a straight face when they looked at Cas’s face, full of honest confusion, or Dean’s pissed off and confused expression, and looking at the other one trying not to laugh just set them off again.

“Care to share with the class Sammy?”

“It’s- hehe – nothing Dean- hehehe- don’t worry,” Sam managed to focus his expression into a serious face, “I wouldn’t want to upset you, - heehee- you don’t like that do you.” Gabriel and Sam broke into raucous laughter and the bulbs above the couch shattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fair enough to say his brother’s excessive laughter over some inside joke came to a halt when the piece of glass sliced through his cheek. Dean was sitting in an armchair across the room but the light coming from the tv was plenty to see the steady drips of blood falling from Sam’s face. Up till that point the evening had been nice, even with the constant snide laughter coming from his and Cas’s siblings. Sam didn’t laugh as much as he used to, and it was nice to see a smile on his face, even if it was a trickster that put it there, and even if Dean wasn’t sure what he’d done. He was going to be paranoid all week now, damn Gabriel.

Going to grab the box of tissues that sat on the table between him and Cas, he saw that Gabriel was already mopping up the blood from his brother’s face with a handkerchief.

“Come on kiddo, let’s go get this fixed up.”

“It’s fine Gabe, really, just a scratch.”

“Mmhmmm,” Gabriel wasn’t impressed, “Humour me.”

Dean watched as the two of them left for the bathroom closest to the door, where else would you keep a first aid kit?

“Dean,” Cas’s gravelly voice said from beside him.

“Yeah Cas?”

“I feel that you may perhaps require some electrical maintenance on the bunker. This is the third bulb that has blown since I’ve began to visit here after I fell.”

“I’m sure it’s fine, just old globes.” Cas levelled a glare at him that should have turned him to stone, “Ok, I’ll get someone around to check it out ok? Maybe Charlie.”

“That would be wise Dean, I don’t want you electrified,” blue eyes looked at Dean in the near dark, and Dean couldn’t look away, “or Sam,” Cas added on, almost as an afterthought. The two shared a small smile before tearing their eyes away to watch the TV.

“Oh and Dean,”

“Yeah Cas,”

“Joffrey’s an assbutt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long kiddos, or not so kiddos, you're all kiddos to me. Anyhoo, had exams so I've been a bit busy but hey, I'm back. Should update again soon, hopefully. xx Mira


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry, it's been so long. My laptop broke, and then it was better but I was working and doing homework. But I'm back now, so Yay! Please enjoy, and I own nothing. Mira xx

“Hey, hold still. This is deeper than it looks, and I think there’s,” Sam winced as Gabriel put the tweezers in the cut, “a piece of glass still in here.”

With careful precision Gabriel pulled out the shard of glass that was making such a nuisance of itself, marring such a handsome cheek. Wait up, what? I need to leave those thoughts alone, they will not end well, thought Gabriel.

“Ouch, that stung.”

“What did you expect? A massage? I’m pulling shrapnel out of your face.”

“I’m not sure glass counts as shrapnel Gabriel,” Sam said with as wry a smile as he could manage with his cheek cut open.

“Light globe shrapnel is a kind of shrapnel, and let’s face it. Of the two of us, who was around when the first shrapnel was invented?”

“Smartass.”

“Glad I haven’t lost my touch. Now, I reckon this is going to need stitches. So while you sit nice and still, I’m going to sew up that cheek.” 

                                                                              ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once Gabriel was done, he got out the antibacterial wipes, _“What do you mean you just use whiskey?”_ and started wiping down his face. It hurt less than it should’ve. Sam wasn’t sure why, but he wasn’t complaining. Maybe it was the beer he’d drunk before, or maybe it was the extreme care that Gabriel seemed to be taking. He’d finished up and was in the process of hunting for a bin.

“It’s under the sink.”

“Where? Oh there, right. Now, I have a question that’s been bothering me for some time. If this bunker is do ‘high tech and awesome’ Dean’s words, not mine, then why do the light bulbs seem to be blowing constantly. There’s been three, no four, that one in the kitchen, that have just gone boom. What’s up with that?”

“There’s been more than that, a whole bunch have gone out at other times. I think we might have a spirit or something because I feel like things are moving around, and things break. But I don’t want to worry Dean, it seems like he’s just getting back to himself.”

“Well I’ll have a look around with you kiddo, make sure the nasty ghost doesn’t hurt you.”

“Haha, so funny Gabriel, you’re hilarious. And stop calling me kiddo, I reckon you must be about my age, physically at least.”

“Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine, I am shorter than you, so how about Samsquatch?” Gabriel gave Sam a shit eating grin.

“That’s it, no ghost hunting for you. Goodbye Gabriel. Goodbye now.”

“Aww don’t be like that. If I went I’d have to take Cas with me, and you know just how well that would go down with Dean.” The arched eyebrow was just too much, Sam burst out laughing.

“Okay, okay. You can stay, and we can go ghost hunting some time. But, just not when Dean’s around. Like I said, he’s not great.”

“What do you mean, not great?”

“Well, after the whole shebang with the trials and stuff, he just kinda retreated. Like, he’d go out and work on the car, but he wouldn’t give me crap for the things he used to, and he’d yell at Kevin if he showed any concern. Strangely enough Crowley was the only one who could get through to him, but he said that Dean wasn’t sleeping at night, and when he did he spent the time in nightmares. He still has them, but they’re fewer and further apart, the loud ones anyway. And he has more life in him. He just, didn’t before. I think it was finding you guys that did it. Thank you for that.”

“I think ‘you guys’ might be a bit generous, pretty sure it was my blue eyed-messy haired brother that he was glad to see again.”

“You’re probably right, but I’m glad you’re back, it’s nice to have someone else around that I can escape the intense staring with.”

“Hahaha, you might just be right there. Now, I reckon you’re all set to go.” With a great slap to Sam’s back Gabriel gave him the go ahead to get up, and Sam ended up on the floor in pain.

“Ow ouch ow crap, nope, not good.”

“Shit, Sam, are you alright? I’m sorry, I just…” Gabriel helped him to his feet being very careful not to touch his back.

“Yeah I’m fine, my back’s just a bit tender, it’ll be right in a bit.”

The word rang in Gabriels ears, ah, nooooooooooo, it can’t be, nooooooooo. But what if? Nope. Not both of them, or either of them. Just no. His head ran in circles while he stood there stunned, like a deer in headlights. 


	18. Chapter 18

 “Hey Cas, do you think you could teach me how to make your pie sometime?” Dean said through a mouthful of his third slice that evening. Of course because of this, his words came out quite convoluted, but Cas got the general idea of what he was trying to say.

“Why do you wish to acquire the skills, surely I could continue to provide you and Sam with pie?” Dean managed to swallow his mouthful of pie before he responded,

“Are you kidding me, of course you will. I just thought it’d be nice to know how, and who better to teach me than the master of pies?” Dean winked at Cas as he went for another forkful of hot apple and pastry.

“Of course Dean, I’d very much enjoy teaching you how to make a pie. You could come to the bakery tomorrow morning and help out?” Cas watched as Dean’s face lit up like a small child’s and a smile spread around his full mouth.

“Seriously? You’d teach me how to make pie tomorrow?” Cas blushed at the joy that Dean showed at the thought.

“Unless you had some other plans?” Cas trailed off, Dean was probably busy hunting or preparing for something. Dean’s face fell and his forehead screwed up in thought,

“Well, I was meant to be helping Sam find a case, but I’m sure he can manage by himself.” His face lifted again and Castiel’s mood followed.

“So I’ll see you at the bakery at 6 tomorrow? I trust you can find your way in the dark?”

“Wait up, dark? Is this morning or night?”

“Morning Dean. All bakeries start early.”

“Ugh, fine. It’s a deal.” The two of them smiled at each other before reverting their attention back to the TV.

“Um Cas?” Sam called from the bathroom with a panicky edge to his voice, “I think something’s happened to Gabriel. He’s just kind of, stopped.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Watching as Gabriel just ceased all actions and appeared to be barely breathing was shocking for Sam, this man-angel-ex angel who was always so full of life and snark just suddenly stopped everything.

“Gabriel? Gabriel, you ok? Can you hear me?” Sam waved his hand in front of the shorter man’s face and only received a blank stare in return.

“Gabriel?!” Cas’ gruff voice called out from the hall as he and Dean came running into the already cramped bathroom. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s just frozen, I don’t know what happened. We were just talking and then he froze.”

“Oi, shortstack, you’re weirding everyone out, snap out of it.” Dean tried a louder and more forward approach, before resorting to throwing a glass of water in the ex-archangel’s face. Gabriel sputtered as the water dripped down his features, and turned his eyes towards Cas, then glanced between Sam and Dean with a horrified look on his face, before falling sideways into Sam’s body in a dead faint. The youngest Winchester caught him and carried him out to the couch, and laid him down, resting the mop of caramel hair on the arm of the sofa.

“Ok, any ideas?” The casual way that Dean said it grated on Sam’s nerves, but he let it go.

“If I did not know my brother as well as I believe I do, I’d say he’s had a shock. Sam, what was the topic of your discussion just before he went into this state?”

“Um we were just talking about,” Sam cast his mind back, “being glad that you guys were around, and then he went to help me up and now he’s just, well yeah.”

“I do not know then. As far as I can tell he is in no immediate danger though.”

“Hey, maybe it’s best you two stay the night, Sam and I have plenty of spare bedrooms and pipsqueak is in no condition to travel.”

“That would be much appreciated Dean.”

Sam gathered up the shorter man in his arms and began the trip to one of the empty bedrooms. Gabriel seemed so much smaller now that he was unconscious and in his arms, so vulnerable and fragile. Two words he’d never thought he’d apply to this man. Sam was scared, what had caused this liveliness to just stop and go comatose? What if he didn’t wake from it? No. He couldn’t think that, Gabriel would wake up in the morning and return to his irritable self. Walking past his own room, Sam decided to put Gabriel in the room across the hall from him, if he was going to wake up into the middle of the night with no idea where he was, it would be best that there was a familiar face in sight. With this is mind, Sam lay Gabriel down on the bed and pulled a blanket over the small frame of the golden eyed ex-angel. Setting a glass of water on the bedside table, Sam turned the light off and left the doors to both rooms open, with the hallway light on, he could must make out profile of Gabriel, and he lay there until he slept, watching and worrying over Gabriel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dean, I have never seem Gabriel like he is. I’m worried for him. I can determine no threat to his health but it concerns me none the less.”

“Cas, listen to me, he’ll be fine. We’ll wake up tomorrow and he’ll be bouncing around the bunker complaining about the lack of chocolate.”

“I know Dean, but I still worry for him. He’s the only family I have left.” Cas was dangerously close to choking up, and Dean could see it.

“Hey now, none of that. You’ve got Sam and Kevin, and you’ve got me. We’re your family too.”

“I know Dean,” Cas looked up at Dean with tears shining in his blue eyes, “but I don’t want you to get hurt.” He choked back a sob, “I’ve gotten the rest of my family hurt, everyone around me is killed or injured because of my bad decisions, and-“ Cas was cut off as Dean pulled him into a hug and spoke in hushed tones straight into his ear.

“You listen to me Castiel, everything you’ve done has been for the right reasons, and yes, you’ve messed up. Newsflash, Sam and I let Lucifer out. We’ve all screwed up, but we will stick it out, together, because that’s what family does. And I care about you, so don’t think no one does.” With that Cas dissolved into tears and buried his head in Dean’s shoulder, and Dean blinked backed tears and whispered comforts into his ex-angel’s ear as he thought about all that the two of them had been through, both together and separately. They stood there well into the night, until the tears dried up for both of them and they were able to go to their respective bedrooms. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that took so long darlings, hopefully the next chapter will be up soon, but no promises. Mira xx


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, I know I said soon, but I do love you all dearly, every single one of you. xxMira

Gabriel stretched out the next morning, ready for a day in the bakery. He was comfy and content and considering the flavour of danish when his eyes snapped open and it all came rushing back. The panic was quickly filling him as he remembered everything, the possibility of what happened, his throat choked up and he was struggling to breathe, hyperventilating just to get some air in and calm down. Because if it had happened, if that’s what it was, if that was the explanation, then it meant huge things, imminent, terrifying things. And it just couldn’t be.

Once he’d calmed himself down enough to function properly, Gabriel sat up on the bed, and saw across the hall; Sam, sleeping, sprawled across the bed, completely dead to the world, and the sight calmed him just that bit more. He crawled out of the sheets and walked quietly down the hall, in what he hoped was the direction of the kitchen and dining room, and exit. He had to get to the bakery, and even if he left now he was going to be very late, maybe he could open up for lunch.

Upon reaching the kitchen, he found a note on the table:

Sam,

Cas and I have gone to open up the bakery, if you need us, just call, I have my phone. There’s bacon in the fridge if you want it. Keep us posted on Gabriel’s condition, Cas is worried, and if anything changes call us.

We’ll be back by dinner, cook something nice.

Dean

Ps. Sam, thank you for looking after my brother, if he wakes up call me. Castiel.

 

Why were they all worried, he’d just, oh, he’d just had a panic attack and passed out. Right. Fair enough. He put down the note and set about fixing breakfast for him and Sam, he needed to say thank you for looking after him, and bacon sounded good.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam awoke to the smell of bacon and pancakes and stretched out on the bed, trying to work out the near permanent ache in his back. Sitting up on his bed he noticed his door was opened, and remembered why.

“Gabriel? Are you-“ He wasn’t in the bed, and after a quick scan of the room he wasn’t there either. “Gabriel! Where are you? Gabriel?!” Sam was running down the hall now, maybe Cas had gotten him up.

“Heya Sam, what’s the fuss?” There was Gabriel, the bastard with a smug smile on his face flipping a pancake in the kitchen, he knew exactly what the fuss was.

“Our brothers are off playing shopkeepers at the bakery today, they left a note. Apparently you’re cooking tonight, pizza or Thai?”

“Very funny,” Sam scanned the note quickly, “I can actually cook.”

“Well luckily I cooked this morning, so. Big question. Pancakes, bacon or both?”

10 minutes later when they were both settled in at the table, Sam with both pancakes and bacon, though not together, instead of his usual muesli. And Gabriel with bacon on pancakes, all absolutely covered in maple syrup.

“I’m sure that can’t be good for you, do you have any idea how much sugar is in that much syrup. That’s a heart attack on a plate!”

“While I thank you for your concern, this is my special ‘thank you for looking after me when I passed out on your floor’ breakfast. So eat your pancakes Sammy.” Gabriel looked slightly sheepish as he mentioned the night before, the two had artfully avoided the topic, Sam had figured he’d raise it when he was ready.

“Yeah, you gave us all a good scare. What happened?”

Gabriel pondered this, if he was totally honest then everyone would freak, and he might not be right, he was pretty sure he was, but there was no use anyone panicking just yet, except him of course. But if he said it was something else, they’d want to check that out, so maybe…

“I can’t remember. I was pulling glass out of your cheek, then I sewed it up, then I woke up this morning. PTSD maybe? Freak accident? I’m fine now.”

“Are you sure? I mean, we could get you to a doctor or something.” Sam didn’t totally believe him, something else was going on.

The panic in Gabriel’s eyes was blatant before he masked it, “and tell them what? Hi, I’m Gabriel the archangel, well I was until I died and came back human, but don’t worry, I’m totally sane. Yeah, that’ll go down nicely with the human docs.” Sarcasm dripped from Gabriel’s words, a sure sign he wasn’t about to pass out again. That was enough for now.

They sat in silence finishing they’re breakfasts, until,

“So Sammy, oh hunter supreme, how about that ghost?”

“After breakfast, I’m not taking you hunting on an empty stomach, you’ll just complain.”

“Will not!”

Sam just raised an eyebrow at the childish pout on the ‘older than dirt’ former angels face, “Really?”, and laughed when the response was just a tongue poking out from between his lips.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long, life just got busy. Thank you to everyone who'd kudos'd and commented, I love you all and I'm glad you're enjoying it. As an apology here's a longer chapter, it's a bit of a filler but I'm just finalising what I want to do with the rest of it. Anyways xx Mira

It had been 4am when Dean had a hand placed on his shoulder and his name whispered in his ear. 4am when he reached for the blade he kept under his pillow and narrowly avoided slicing open his best friends face.

“Jesus Cas! Don’t do that, wait, what’s wrong? It’s,” He checked his watch, “It’s 4 in the morning. Is Gabriel ok?”

“Yes Dean, everything is fine.” Dean looked Cas up and down. He was fully dressed and showered, hair still messy and wet.

“Then why are you, you know, in my room at this ungodly hour?” Dean rubbed the grit out of his eyes with his palms as he sat up and propped himself against the headboard of his bed. Trying to get his brain to process what was going on.

“I thought that you wished to learn to bake, and since Gabriel is, indisposed currently, that you might help me with the bakery this morning.” Cas looked at his feet as he spoke, a little unsure as to whether he was going to be thrown bodily from the room, or if he was getting help.

“Oh, sure I’ll help you Cas,” Cas beamed and Dean smiled, “Just let me shower and dress. I’ll be out in 10, do you wanna go make toast or something? I’m not baking on an empty stomach, and neither should you. You know where the bread and spreads are right?”

“Dean, I’ve been visiting the bunker for how many weeks now? Of course I know where the food is.” Cas scoffed and walked out of the room, leaving Dean very proud of how far his angel had come from the stick in the mud angel he had been, or, he supposed, Cas was human now, so he wasn’t his angel anymore, he was, his human? No, that wasn’t right, wait up, his? When did Dean start thinking of Cas as his? He couldn’t remember when that happened. Dragging his hand through his hair,

“It’s too early for this crap, I need a shower and coffee.” He mumbled to himself and he headed to do just that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emerging into the kitchen soon after he lost his thoughts and sleepiness in the hot shower, Dean was greeted by the sight of a small tower of toast that Cas was in the midst of buttering and the smell of coffee.

“Seriously dude? That’s a lot of toast. There’s no way we’re going to eat all that. It’s ridiculous.” He grabbed a mug and poured himself a generous volume of coffee.

“You’ll eat it all.” Cas said calmly and continued buttering it, “Well half of it anyway. I’ll eat the rest.” He moved on to start constructing PBJ toast for himself.

“What? No way?”

“I bet you we’ll finish it.” Leaning against the island counter with his arms crossed, Cas was the perfect picture of an overconfident early bird. And Dean wasn’t having any of that.

“Fine. What are the stakes?”

“Loser has to wear Gabriel’s apron?” Cas had a smug smile on his face, but Dean wasn’t fazed.

“Is that all? You’re on.” Turning back to the toast, Cas split the tower in half and placed Dean’s on a plate and handed it to him. Dean was starting to regret his proud bet, there wasn’t as much toast as it had looked, and he was really hungry.

15 minutes later Cas was walking around the kitchen with the smuggest grin Dean had ever seen on his face, and he only had one question. What the hell was wrong with Gabriel’s apron? It couldn’t really be that bad could it?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“No. There is no way in hell I’m wearing that.” The look of pure revulsion on Dean’s face just made the situation even funnier for Castiel.

“Come on Dean, that was the bet.”

“Yeah but Cas, this? This is torture. You said loser wears Gabriel’s apron, not loser wears, this.” Dean waved the frills and lace in his face. “This, is not an apron, this, this is, I don’t know, but it ain’t no apron.” Cas widened his eyes to mimic the puppy eyes that children gave their parents in an attempt to attain a treat, which they knew they had little chance of getting.  He had been witness to this many times when they made chocolates, and had always thought it laughable, though it had worked on occasion. He had no real expectations of Dean agreeing to wear the baby pink, frilly, lacy, incredibly feminine apron that Gabriel had received in the mail by mistake when he had ordered a different apron. Upon opening the package, Gabriel had sworn damnation upon Ebay and the postal service, before returning to what he called his faithful apron that would never dare make him look like a 3 year old girl playing kitchen, and had spent the rest of the day apologising for ever doubting it. Castiel had always thought his brother was a little strange, but that had certainly confirmed it. And now he was, no, not thinking about that.

Dean looked as Cas’s blue eyes widened, and was torn between his masculinity that he had always worn as his armour that had become his skin, and whatever was making him want to put the apron on just to see Cas’s smug smile at the fact that he had won a bet, and that Dean had owned up to his side of it honourably. Oh, honour, if he didn’t do this then... Screw the pink, this had to do with his masculine honour. With a great sigh, Dean slipped the apron on over his shirt and tied the back of it up with the great big satin bow that was tied around the middle, and watched as Cas’s eyes widened further and the biggest shit eating grin broke out over his face.

“Shut up. You said we had baking to do. Let’s get it done so I can take this, thing off.”

“I didn’t say anything Dean.” With a smirk Cas lead the way through to the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour in and Dean seemed to have completely forgotten about the apron.  The two of them were elbow deep in pastry and dough and the makings for a million different baked goods, and Cas loved it. They moved around each other seamlessly and traded banter or worked in companionable silence, it all worked, everything just seemed to fit into place, and they were going to be right on time to open up the shop.

“Cas, do you want me to start moving all these to the front of the shop?” Dean’s question was accompanied by some arm gestures in the general direction of the trays of cookies and muffins that the two of them had somehow assembled in the course of their early morning baking stint.

“Yes, into the cabinet next to the register. There are cakes in the fridge to be moved to the cake stands also, Gabriel made them yesterday before we came to visit.” Cas swallowed as he tried not to think about Gabriel.

“Hey Cas, he’ll be fine. Sam will call if there’s any change, and he’ll be down here telling me I didn’t ice the cookies right soon.” Dean placed a freshly washed hand onto his shoulder and forced his head up.

“I know Dean.” Cas smiled at the taller man, “Oh and while you’re out the front, could you unlock the door, the key is under the second cake stand. I’ll just put these in the oven and check the bread, I’ll be right out.” Dean left the kitchen, mumbling something about the quality of the security.

“Oh Dean-“

“I got it Cas!”

“No Dean wait-“

“I’ll be there in a second!” Cas just shook his head and wondered how long it would take before he remembered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean opened the door to reveal an elderly couple carrying a picnic basket, who seemed quite taken aback to see him.

“Hi, sorry. My name’s Dean, I’m just helping Castiel hold the fort while Gabriel takes a few days for himself. Please, do come in.”

“Thank you young man. Oh, you must be The Dean.” The man said with raised eyebrows.

“Oh don’t be rude Everett. Hello Dean, I’m Jeanette and this is my husband Everett. Oh, Rusty!” Dean turned to see a small hairball hurtling towards the couple. The dog was still wary around Dean, having only been introduced this morning, but he seemed quite fond of the couple.

“Ah, Mr and Mrs Thompson, please do take a seat. I’ll have your bread in just a minute, it’s just cooling from the oven.” Cas walked out of the kitchen and began packaging up some muffins for them. Dean watched on as Cas interacted with the couple, he knew them and asked after their families. They were soon sent off with their bread and a few free samples, to have what Cas explained was the reason they were up at the crack of dawn, a breakfast at the lake with fresh bread.

“Well, when did you become so personable?”

“What?”

“You just, were, well.” Dean struggled to find the words, “Normal.”

“Well, they were some of the first people I met, and it probably helped that when I met them I was wearing a normal apron.”

“A normal wh-“ Dean looked down going red, he still had the horrendously girly apron on, “No, no, far out.” He sat down at one of the tables in such a way that the skirt of the apron flounced, and his blush deepened. That was it for Cas, he was gone.

“I did,” he laughed, “I did try to warn you.”

“Yeah, well.” Dean undid the apron and threw it behind the counter, where he hope Rusty would chew it up so he never had to see it again. In an attempt to change the subject he asked Cas, “What did he mean by The Dean, what was up with that?”

“No idea. Come on Dean, let’s open up the shop properly.”

The day continued in an organised manner, with very little trouble. Cas watched over Dean, made sure he didn’t break anything and laughed at the antics he entered into with the young children, and Dean watched in wonder as Cas talked and laughed with the customers in a manner that he never would’ve thought possible. There were some more raised eyebrows throughout the day as he introduced himself as Dean, but it passed with little explanation, though one man, Mr Merry-somethingorother, told him that he was glad the Dean had managed to work through his problems. And that left Dean and Cas more confused than before. Good news came at 10 o’clock in the form of a phone call from their brothers. Gabriel had woken up and he was fine, and Dean could see that Cas was relieved, he was less tense and the worry line that had set in on his forehead had disappeared, and in some way, that calmed Dean.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I rewrote it a bit because I re-read it again and noticed it definitely needed it. Still not my finest writing, but meh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darlings, darlings, darlings. My sorries could stretch to Pluto. This year was my last year of high school, and as such, crazy mad study time. And sadly I have neglected this story. But never fear! I have returned!  
> Unfortunately I am on a tropical holiday, well I suppose unfortunately for the story, but I will return to my tablet and story notes in a few weeks. As I can't really remember all the stuff that I've set up, I kinda don't want to write and mess it all up. So rather than do that, I shall give you a little sneak peak into Crowley's working day.  
> Many many loves and sorries,  
> Mira xxx

Sometimes humans pissed Crowley off, when they acted like demons but without the excuse of a transformed soul. Crowley knew that they could, he wasn't exactly surprised by them. After all, he had made a career out of their selfishness and greed before now. But out of all those humans, the type sitting in front of his desk, sipping on the sparkling water she'd demanded and ranting with all the nasally passion she could muster, was some of the worst.  
Property developers.  
They really got on his nerves, like no one else. Not even the Winchesters or his old underlings could manage it. But this one, this foul beastie in a human body, she could. The only thing that got him through these days when he had to interact with what would undoubtedly make a fantastic demon, she was already halfway there after all, was knowing that in the end she'd go to hell and pay for her sins in the chaos that it had inevitably fallen into.   
But for now, he had to grit his teeth and bear it.  
"But you were willing to sell it last week, and we purchased the adjoining properties from Gregsons!" That nasally drawl really pierced everything. And Gregsons. The bane of Crowley's new existence, next to property developers of course. That greasy bastard would sell his own mother for the right price, or any price at all really.   
"Honestly, I don't care that people live there, you said they were willing to sell! And with that property I could make millions!" The outrage was becoming clear in her ever rising eyebrows, and smooth botoxed face.  
"That was a different family, in a different suburb." His patience really wasn't built to deal with this. A few months ago he could've just snapped his fingers and she would have gone down in a spray of blood, but now...  
"Ppht, it doesn't really matter. They're all the same, pathetic poor families who don't know an opportunity when it knocks on their door."  
"Doris, you're going to give them bloody peanuts for their land, less than half what it's worth, then tell them to fob off and make millions with their property."  
"Yes. Brilliant isn't it. Now give me the property."  
Crowley reached with a shaking hand towards his mug, breathing in and out, trying to maintain his temper. His mother's witchcraft would not be good to use now, but it was devilishly tempting to make an exception, oh so tempting. Maybe just a little bit? Something to really pray on her fears, empty bank accounts, wrinkles everywhere. Or maybe something more classic, disembowelment, knives under the skin, being roasted from the inside out, slowly. He pictured all of those outcomes as he drank his coffee, calming enough to not hex her there and then.  
"Doris," really, why wouldn't she change it? She'd certainly changed every other aspect of herself, she was barely recognisable as a human with all the surgery she'd had, "If they don't want to sell there's nothing you can do. And the other couple, the couple that were willing to sell last week. I think that sale might fall through." Crowley raised his voice, and whoops, there's his temper.  
"British scum! You're setting me up for ruin!" She threw what was left of her water all over his suit.   
"No Doris, that was all you." He was standing up now, "Get out of my office, we have no more business."  
"How dare you turn me away?! I'll take all of my business to Gregsons. You won't even get peanuts!"  
The snotty woman left his office as Crowley muttered under his breath,  
"Good riddance, and see if you can take him down in ruin with you. It'd be nice to see two less bloodthirsty leaches in this town."  
They got under his skin, well and truly. Crowley liked to think that his life so far had given him a fairly thick skin. Unfortunately people like that, people who made their living off of robbing the poor and giving to the rich and themselves, taking advantage of those who needed help instead of manipulation, they hit a little close to home. Crowley had spent a fair portion of his existence doing the same thing and now was doing all he could to make up for it. The real estate agent he now basically ran had a program to provide affordable and even free housing to the homeless and the poor, depending on what they could afford to pay. He spent time with them to organise their financials and provide a support service for those who needed it. He was trying to do the right thing for the first time in his life. Not the right thing for him, just the right thing. Those Winchesters really rubbed off on him. He was missing them a bit, not that he'd admit it.  
So when property developers like Doris came in, he just wanted to do the things he had reserved for only his most dangerous musings.  
His poor intern had heard this a million times, slightly edited as it was. Today Crowley had even taken pity on the poor girl and sent her home to her med-student fiancé at lunch after Doris had called, she didn't need to hear his rant again. But Crowley needed to vent, so he closed up early and went home.

Crowley lived only a few streets away, and when he got home he didn't expect any greeting, and didn't receive any.  
"Vincent! Where are you, you bloody cat?"  
Crowley wandered through to his loungeroom after hanging up his briefcase and jacket, and putting away his shoes. He found Vincent curled up in the sun on the slate around the fireplace. He was always there, regardless of whether the fire was burning or not.  
"Ok cat, you know the deal."  
The fluffy black feline lifted his head, and upon seeing who it was, fixed Crowley with a cool stare and lay back down.  
"Noooo, you know the deal. Free board and food but you have to listen to me vent." And so Crowley picked up the disgruntled cat and told him about his day, well, told might be the wrong word. But Crowley definitely didn't whine, he had more pride than that. And before long, Vincent had settled down on his lap, fallen asleep and started purring.  
"Serves me right, that's what I get for having a bloody cat. Now a dog, a dog would listen and empathise, they know about loyalty, but you, to you I'm just food and a comfy bed." Crowley missed his hellhounds, but the cat was growing on him. He hadn't really intended to have a cat, he'd thought once he'd settled in he'd get a dog, but it turns out Vincent was part of the house package. His original owners had moved a town over and taken him with them, but he'd just walked back to the house and stayed there. The next inhabitants told Crowley he just stayed in the tree house and not to worry, he wouldn't even go near them, or anyone else. But Crowley had woken one morning to a frightful, purring cat on his pillow. Since then Vincent had become a feature in his life. And now they lived in a certain peace that Crowley didn't think he was going to find. Who knew he just needed a cat? He was almost content, he just maybe wanted some contact with Kevin, maybe see the Winchesters once in a while, and he thought he might be.  
But for now, he needed to work out how to bankrupt Doris and Gregsons...


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHA I'm back darlings! I'm going to attempt to put a new chapter up every week, fingers crossed.  
> Anyhoo! Merry late Christmas kiddos!  
> Mira xx

“You do know how to shoot a gun don’t you? The human way?”

Gabriel looked down at the shot gun with rock salt shot in, “Well… I mean I know the theory behind it, can’t be that hard right?” Sam placed a hand on Gabriel’s back and pushed him towards the shooting range.

“So hold it like this, look, aim and shoot.” Sam aimed at his target and put a smattering of shot through its chest. “Ok, go.”

Gabriel lifted the gun and aimed, surely it couldn’t be too hard? It wasn’t like he’d never shot a gun before, this was just his first time without his grace…  He took a deep breath and pulled the trigger.

“Congratulations Gabe, you hit the target in the arm. Not too far off centre either. Maybe next time,” Sam turned to the short ex-angel with a smirk, “you could hit your target rather than mine.” Gabriel was busy preparing the gun for his next shot, and definitely not avoiding the superiority that was rolling off of Sam’s raised eyebrow.

“Hey! I was close! Would’ve given mine a scare definitely, they probably froze in shock, just in time for you, my less mighty sidekick to go in and shoot them, finishing off my work.” The bravado with which Gabriel was gesturing would have been impressive, and probably funny, had it not been accompanied with the brandishing of a loaded gun and the firing of said gun. It hit Gabriel’s target straight in the chest. The two men froze in shock at the sudden noise. Gabriel looked at the floor slightly ashamed, “well, I hit the target.”

“No more guns, until you learn rule one. No waving live guns around! Seriously Gabriel?! That could have injured me, or you, badly at this range!” Sam removed the gun from Gabriel’s possession and stalked back into the armoury.

He didn’t miss his grace much anymore, but he was now. With his grace he could have just hit the target, destroyed it, made it do the YMCA if he really wanted, but now he was just a fuck up, couldn’t even manage basic gun safety. He sat down and put his head in his hands, how was he meant to help them if he couldn’t even do that? How was he going to be able to do what he had to if he struggled with even the most basic task related this field? Gabriel was pulled out of his reverie by a hand in his shoulder.

“Look Gabe, I’m sorry I yelled at you. It’s just that could’ve done serious damage to either of us, and you haven’t been human for that long, and trust me, we take a lot longer to heal physical wounds than angels. Not to mention you’ve barely just woken up from last night, and we still don’t know what that was about,” a wave of guilt rolled through the shorter man. “Not to mention, rock salt stings like a bitch.” Gabriel looked up and Sam had an apologetic smile on his face.

“Ppht, think a bit of yelling can get me down? I’m fine.” He put back on his bravado like a heavy coat, and sat a little straighter. That’s when he noticed that Sam was holding something in his hand.

“Here, maybe you can practice with guns more later, but I figured for now you should stick with what you know. Catch.” Gabriel found himself reflexively going to catch the blade that was falling from where Sam had thrown it up. “It’s an iron dagger, about-“

“The same weight and length of an angel blade. Thanks Sam.” He was slightly taken aback at the thoughtfulness of the Winchester’s choice. An angel blade would’ve done the job, but it was too much of what he was trying to leave behind. But the iron dagger was similar enough for him to be able to use it easily without the emotional attachments. A small smile spread across his face as Sam called him from the doorway through to the gym,

“You coming?” Gabriel looked up and saw Sam leaning on the doorframe with a grin on his face. Man, he was so screwed.

~~~~~~~~~~

They did some quick sparring with small blades, just to make sure that Gabriel wasn’t as rusty with them as with guns. He was not, he was absolutely brilliant. With a blade in his hand he looked as though he still had the full might of heaven behind him, he twirled and danced a deadly routine around Sam. Gabriel had slowly relaxed, a tension that Sam hadn’t noticed had been there all of this morning, it just melted away. He had disarmed Sam a long time ago and since then Sam had started using the bars in the room to stretch out his back and shoulders, he was so sore! He hadn’t even been hunting recently, it had been unnaturally quiet, and now he thought about it, he and Dean had stopped really looking in the papers. They’d settled, and they had reasons to stay put. Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention, Gabriel seemed to be going through training routines and exercises as though he had a million times, which probably wasn’t too far from the truth. The shorter man was concentrated and graceful and beautiful, there was no other way to describe him at this point. He spun, just a blur of shining honey coloured hair and his green jacket, it was a dance more than an exercise. Inevitably he began to slow, the dance becoming clumsy and his breathing laboured. He came to a sudden halt in front of Sam and took a bow with a ridiculous flourish of hands, while keeping the blade away from anything it could harm.

“Well sasquatch, how about you shut your fly trap and go get me a glass of water.” With that, Gabriel folded down to the floor and lay on his back, breathing very heavily. Sam flushed with the embarrassment at being caught watching, but could see the sweat beads rolling down the shorter man's neck, and decided ice was probably needed as well.

He walked to the kitchen quickly and upon arriving, decided he was far enough from the work out room for Gabriel to not see him. Placing his hands on the bench he hung his head and took a deep breath. He could do this, he could not do whatever he was starting to consider doing. But Gabe was just so…. And with the dagger and the fighting…. And oh he was in so much trouble. Deep breath, glass of water, with ice. That was his goal. Nothing else. Purely platonic. Just because they’d been getting closer over the last couple of months, seeing each other nearly every day tended to heal old wounds and grievances, especially when it was more effort to keep them up than not. And if Sam was honest with himself, he’d forgiven Gabriel for everything he’d done to him when he’d gone up against Lucifer to give them time to escape, and given them the information about the rings. Since then, he’d just been getting to know the guy. But now, now he needed to get them both a glass of water, and make a plan of how they were going to check for and flush out if need be, a ghost from the bunker.

~~~~~~~~~~~

John’s journal and a few of the men of letters texts on ghosts were spread out on the table and being worked through as they had their lunch.

“So, there haven’t been any cold patches, or noises in the walls. The only really ghosty sign is the light bulbs.” Sam ran both hands over his face in frustration and resignation. “Maybe it is just an electrical problem, it’s just, something feels, off. I don’t know, what do you think Gabe?”

His head snapped up from the book at his name, he knew what he thought, he needed to check it, but it most certainly did not have anything to have anything to do with ghosts, except maybe those of his memories that he’d forgotten about. “I think, you should check for a ghost, always trust your instincts. You’ve got the best instincts I’ve ever known, except maybe that Oracle in Greece, but they saw the future so I don’t think they really count as instincts, just knowledge, but maybe-“

“Breathe. You’re rambling. Seriously,” Sam leant forward, stretching his back out as he did, “are you ok? I mean you passed out last night out of nowhere, and you’ve been off all day. I mean you’re smiling and stuff but you just don’t seem, you?” He finished his sentence, almost as if he wasn’t sure if he’d said it right, or got what he wanted to say across. Big hazel eyes searched Gabriel’s face, looking for some sort of answer, some clue as to why he was off.

“Look Sam, I’ve just…” he struggled to work out what to say. He could put it off indefinitely, but that wouldn’t help anyone. Or he could tell him now, and have to repeat his suspicions this evening when their brothers got back, or, “I’ve got an idea about a potential possibility that could explain some things. But…”

“It’s not a good thing is it.” Sam’s face was serious, and his question a statement.

“No, I don’t think it is. But, I could be wrong, and I hope for all our sakes I am.”

“This has to do with last night doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. It-the possibility-the idea-that-“ He shut his mouth and rubbed his hand across his face. “It’s not good Sam, and I freaked. But,” he said before Sam could demand an explanation, “I could be wrong, and even if I’m not, and I pray to dad I am mind you, a few hours won’t make a difference. So we have time to go on this ghost hunt of yours. Trust me, please.”

Sam could see all sorts of things Gabriel wasn’t saying in his body language. _Please don’t make me tell you now, please don’t make me have to repeat it, please let me be wrong_. But overall, his posture screamed _please trust me_. And Sam did, he felt he should’ve been surprised given their past and the obviously terrible nature of whatever Gabriel’s revelation was, but he wasn’t. “Ok Gabe, I trust you. But you have to tell us all when the others get back.”

The ex-archangel swallowed and visibly relaxed, a bit, but now he had a deadline on when he would find out if it was really as bad as he feared. He put a smirk on his face that they both knew wasn’t even anywhere near the truth, and said “Well who you gonna call then?”

Sam’s easy laugh at the movie reference brought a real smile to his face, they could deal with this. All four of them. For the first time in a long time, Gabriel had hope.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh so it's been a while, at least a year? Bit more than a year? Anyhoo, I'm back and hopefully I'll be able to pump out more than one chapter before I forget about it again. Thank you to those who have commented their enjoyment, it's encouraged me to continue. You are all amazing people, every single person reading this. You are unique and cared for.  
> Mira xx

 They started at the front door, scanning each room with EMF before lining each doorway with salt. Sam could hear Gabriel singing the Ghostbusters theme tune under his breath as they went, putting particular emphasis of the 'Ghostbusters!!" each time around. He had a good voice, even if his choice of song could improve somewhat. 

"Which one do you think I'd be? Peter? Raymond?"

"You Gabe, I think you'd be Dana. You just wouldn't need to be possessed." Sam shot a shit eating grin at Gabriel, and received a childish tongue out and rolled eyes.

"Cruel!" he pulled his best insulted face, "come on Marshmallow Man, we got a ghost to hunt. Not that we seem to be having any luck," and Same heard him add under his breath "Nor will we."

"Don't suppose you've decided you want to tell me what's going on in your head just yet?" Sam asked with little hope, he knew he wasn't going to get a straight answer until the ex-archangel decided he was well and truly ready.

"Not yet Sam," Gabe looked uncharacteristically serious, "Because I really hope I'm wrong."

 ~~~~~~

Gabe jumped on the table and swung his legs as Sam wandered over to the bookshelf dedicated to ghosts.

"Maybe there's an exception, a ghost that doesn't behave like normal ghosts. I mean, technically this bunker should be ghost proof, so anything in here wouldn't be, I don't know, an average ghost?" Sam knew he was clutching at straws, maybe one of them held the answer?

He could hear Gabe shifting uncomfortable on the table. Whatever it was, he knew. It couldn't be immediately threatening or he would've told him, right? Until the shorter man decided he was going to share, Sam was going to dedicate his time to trying to work it out. And he was sure he'd seen something down here that might help.

"Ha! Got it. Get this Gabe, the Men of Letters had a notebook dedicated to 'Abnormal Ghosts'," Sam straightened up and began to walk back to the table as he flicked through the old book, trying to decipher the handwriting of generations of Men of Letters, "Ooh, here's an entry on a -" Sam caught his foot on the edge of the rug and crashed to the floor. The jolt through his knees and hands went straight to his shoulder blades, "Argh! What the hell?!"

"Hey Sammy, you ok?" Gabriel slid off the table and sank to his knees in front of Sam.

"Yeah I'm ok, just my back, again. I think I've done something..." Sam raised his head and found it an inch away from a gorgeous concerned Gabriel's face, and his speech just trailed off. He knew the shorter man was attractive, but it wasn't a good idea to entertain any of those thoughts. His history of entanglements proved that. But he still found himself staring at those slightly pouted lips, and those eyes that he could swear had sunlight trapped inside.

~~~~~~~~~~

Gabriel could see Sam staring at him, his lips especially, and he couldn't help himself. He stared right back. The moose was a walking wet dream, but Gabriel tried not to think about it, it would just make things complicated, and he'd sworn off any sort of romance, it just left him hurting and empty in the end.

"Sam... We really," he licked his lips, "We really shouldn't do -" His words were cut off as Sam closed the gap, and they were kissing, and oh god it was incredible. Gabe could feel the endorphins rush through his body, quieting his brain. Kissing had lost it's allure thousands and thousands of years ago, forcing him to become more, experimental, in his pursuits of sexual satisfaction. But he could kiss Sam for eternity, it was so much better than anything he'd felt, it was exhilarating, it made his head spin, it felt like heaven. That was the jolt of reality that brought him back to the room, and he pulled away from Sam.

"Oh my god Gabe, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't of-" Sam looked so ashamed and panicked.

"Don't apologise Sam, that was, that was something." Gabe gave Sam a wry smile and the taller man rolled back into a sitting position in relief. 

"Yeah it was, wasn't it." As Sam said this he looked at Gabe for conformation. Obviously, the mind blowing kiss hadn't just been one way, this was a relief to the shorter man.

"Sam, I don't think we should get, involved. It doesn't seem like," Gabe struggled for a reason that wasn't too honest, "The best idea at the moment. Especially if I'm right, things aren't going to be... ideal. But, hey, you should know. That kiss was, impressive."

"You're right Gabe, getting involved while in this job is a mistake. It never ends well." Sam looked like he wanted to say something else, but wasn't sure how to phrase it.

"Well spit it out moose," Gabriel earned an eye roll from Sam and broke the tension, "You look like you've got something else to say."

"What if," Sam took a deep breath, it was a bit of a risk, "What if we didn't get 'involved'? What if we just kept it, physical. But like, a platonic physical. I mean we're both obviously attracted to each other, I mean at least I think we are, but if you're not then-"

"Sam! Are you proposing a friends with benefits situation??" Gabe looked at Sam in exaggerated shock, clasping his hands over his chest, "I didn't think you had it in you! Of course, I'll have to check.." Gabriel gave Sam his dirtiest smirk/wink combo that normally made his chosen partner, or partners, blush. However, the reaction from Sam was just laughter.

"Does that usually work for you?!" The taller man's face screwed up like it did when he really laughed, his eyes crinkled, and Gabriel decided he needed to shut him up. He wound his hands into Sam's hair and fell forward, causing the two men to fall to the floor, and Sam to wince because, crap, back. Not the ex-angel's brightest move. However, it didn't completely ruin the mood. Sam brought a leg up and promptly switched their positions, and now Gabriel was pinned to the rug on the library floor as Sam moved his way down the shorter man's neck. His kisses left a line of fire from Gabe's ear to his shoulder. And then Sam went back to the pulse point, and sucked, and snickered as Gabriel's torso arced off the floor in an effort to get closer to Sam's. 

"Hey," Gabriel was breathless and panting, he didn't remember being reduced to this much of a mess this quickly, "No fair, you're bigger than me, I can't-" He lost his train of thought as Sam finished unbuttoning his shirt and looked down at Gabe

"Well, I don't know about that, I'll have to check won't I?" He shot a cheeky smirk at the shorter man, as he leant down to playfully bite Gabriel's collarbones.

"That's not what I -ah- meant," Sam begin to kiss and lick and suck his way down his torso, "never - ah, ah Sam - never mind". Gabriel could feel himself hardening and at the rate Sam was moving, and what he was doing as he slowly dragged his fingernails down the sides of his torso, as he nibbled his way down the front.. oh fuck.. he began to wish he'd had more, well any experience as a human. Sam took a break from his ministrations to press a kiss to Gabriel's mouth.

"You're noisy, I like it." His actions were somewhat contradictory as he went on to ensure, that under absolutely no terms, was Gabriel able to speak another word. The taller man sat back and pulled Gabriel onto his lap. He wound his legs around the muscled torso and Gabe could feel Sam, comforted that he was not the only one extremely turned on at this moment. As Gabriel made it his mission to map Sam's mouth, he ground down against him and elicited a moan from both of them. "Oh fuck, Gabriel, fuck."

"Now who's the mouthy one?" Gabriel began to gain the upper hand and started in on Sam's neck, biting at the pulse point, finding a patch of skin just below Sam's left ear that made him gasp and throw his head back. Although Gabe still had his shirt on, unbuttoned as it was, he decided Sam didn't need his, and got it undone and off his shoulders. "How many bloody shirts are you wearing Samuel Winchester?!" Sam laughed as Gabriel tore off his flannel just to find a t-shirt, and ripped his t-shirt over his head just to find a singlet. "I swear, if you've got another layer under that I'm leaving right now!" Sam threw his head back in laughter and pulled his singlet off, leaving his incredibly perfect torso exposed. Gabe leaned back and just took it all in. Sam just smirked,

"Well, if you've finished admiring.." He pulled Gabe back into a kiss, but the shorter man pulled back just a fraction with laughter dancing in his eyes.

"That's the damn best pass-the-parcel I have ever played." Sam just shook his head,

"You're an idiot." But Sam couldn't have thought he was that much of an idiot, because he closed that gap, once again.

 


End file.
